


The Half-life of Zil

by WatchingTVbutItsFire



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Action & Romance, Action/Adventure, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Canon Continuation, Drama & Romance, F/F, F/M, Fluff, High Fantasy, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon, Post-Season/Series 05 Finale, and then they adventure with aliens, if the movie had like a lot of angst and fluff, it's all an excuse for catradora to flirt and have angst, squad goes to SPACE, this is basically what I want the movie to be
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:42:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 105,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24990256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WatchingTVbutItsFire/pseuds/WatchingTVbutItsFire
Summary: “The aliens, you mean,” Catra said.“The visitors,” Glimmer said, “are our guests.”“You said they knew She-Ra took down Horde Prime.” Catra looked at Glimmer sharply. “They know about us.” Her voice was tense, shoulders raised.“I’m an alien,” Adora pointed out.“Yeah,” Catra said with asperity, “and you turn into a giant lady with a sword who can harness the magical energy of a planet.”Two months after the defeat of Horde Prime, two emissaries from the planet of Zilharr arrive at  Bright Moon. They have a request: they want She-Ra to reignite the magic of their planet. The magic of Zilharr has been corrupted for decades, forcing the people to abandon it and carve out an existence on a satellite structure instead. Adora, Glimmer, and Bow are eager to help the Zilharrans, but Catra questions their motives. After all, the whole universe knows about She-Ra’s defeat of Horde Prime, and everyone is curious about power.
Relationships: Adora & Bow & Catra & Glimmer (She-Ra), Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Bow/Glimmer (She-Ra)
Comments: 219
Kudos: 291





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have the first four chapters of this fic written already, so they’ll be out soon. After that, I’m shooting for at least once per week. I have the plot pretty well mapped out, too. It'll be something like 75k. My sister was sweet enough to beta this—thank you! This being said, I’ve been tinkering after I give it to her, and I apologize in advance for the inevitable mistakes and continuity errors. 
> 
> There’s plenty of Catradora fluff and light angst in these first few chapters before I start torturing the poor things again. So far there’s nothing but cussing and canon-like violence/ themes. If I give in to my horror instincts later, I’ll let you know. I’ll give a CW if anything comes up. 
> 
> I’m a long-time lurker but first-time writer on here. She-Ra took my last two brain cells in quarantine so—here this is! I’ve enjoyed writing this so much. Your kudos/ bookmark/ comments of any kind will give me life.

“Scared of ruining some fancy clothes,” Catra said, disapproving. She raised an eyebrow. “You really have gone soft.”

“I’m not scared!” Adora said. “And you’re not going to distract me.”

They were circling each other in the garden outside of Bright Moon. Adora wondered, briefly, how many times they had faced off like this. Hundreds of times in Horde training, under glaring fluorescents and constant supervision, those bulky targets on their chests. Dozens of times across Etheria, in towns and countryside Adora had never known she would learn to love. Adora could hardly believe they were sparring again here, under Bright Moon’s clear skies and glittering rune stone tower, surrounded by manicured gardens and, finally—peace.

“That’s what you said last time.” Catra paused mid-step, watched Adora stop across from her. “And the time before that.”

“And the time before that!” Glimmer said from Bright Moon’s balcony, where she was sitting next to Bow. “For the record!”

“Ha!” Catra said, positively glowing. “Even Sparkles has turned against you. Do you have any friends who haven’t betrayed you, Adora?”

“I wasn’t _distracted_ ,” Adora said, resisting the urge to glare at Glimmer and prove them all right. She glared at Catra instead. “I was—” She stopped, frowning “That’s not actually funny, Catra.”

“It’s a little funny!” Bow yelled.

“Don’t you guys have something better to do?” Adora said, eyes flicking up to where they sat, and then back down to Catra. She had slowed, mismatched eyes following Adora lazily. Adora continued to mirror her, step for step.

“Definitely not,” Glimmer said. “This is better than any of the meetings I should be at right now.”

“I literally don’t have anything to do right now!” Bow said. “I believe in you, Catra! Don’t lose or I have to negotiate with the duke of Turset tomorrow.”

“He’s not a duke, Bow, he’s a councilor,” Glimmer said.

Adora stopped again to shout at Bow. “Are you serious? You bet _against_ me?” Before Adora could say another word she was knocked to the ground from the side. She heard Bow cheer and Glimmer groan.

Adora slid several feet on the grass. She was still trying to catch her breath to propel herself back on her feet when a very smug-looking something landed on top of her.

“Your fancy shirt survived that.” Catra was perched on top of Adora’s torso. She shifted her weight to raise her right hand, pushing harder into Adora’s left shoulder—“Ow!” Adora complained—and lifted her index finger, claw extended. “Would be a shame if—” She pressed into Adora’s collarbone, testing the strength of the fabric. “It got ruined now.”

Adora launched herself upright, throwing Catra through the air in the process.

Catra landed on her feet. “You can surrender whenever,” Catra said.

But Adora was already in front of Catra again, aiming for a kick to Catra’s torso. Catra ducked just in time. Adora struck with her fist this time, landing a blow on her abdomen. She continued the barrage, pausing only when she realized she had pushed Catra back almost to the edge of the cliffside.

Catra took the opportunity to land a hit on Adora’s shoulder, forcing Adora in a crouch, but she regained her balance quickly and grabbed Catra, throwing her bodily back toward the middle of the clearing. “You know—” She said, before turning around, breathing heavy. “We should probably stop falling off of—”

Adora turned to find Catra still lying in the middle of the grass, unmoving. Adora put a hand on her hip. “I’m not falling off any more cliffs, and I’m not falling for this again.”

No movement.

“Seriously,” Adora said, “I’m not going to.” Catra looked fine enough, lying there with one arm underneath her. Should it be underneath her? Was it bent crooked?

Adora realized she was halfway to Catra before Glimmer called out, “Adora, don’t be an idiot!”

“No interference!” Bow hissed back at Glimmer.

Catra still hadn’t moved.

“Catra, for real you have to say you’re okay,” Adora said. “We said no tricks this time.” Adora was just outside of an arm’s length’s away from Catra now. Adora bent down to try to get a glimpse of her face, but it was pressed into the grass. Catra hadn’t moved a muscle. It had only been two months since they took down Horde Prime. Catra might not be completely healed from her injuries, and she knew she wasn’t sleeping well. Normally that wouldn’t have hurt her, but if the fall had aggravated a still-healing injury? “Catra,” she said, hearing the worry in her own voice, “are you—?”

The moment Adora was close enough, Catra flung out a leg, sending Adora crashing to the ground. Catra was on top of her before she could take another breath, one forearm pressed to Adora’s throat, the other holding Adora’s right arm to the ground.

“ _You_ said no tricks this time.” Catra smirked, one pointed tooth sticking out. “Sorry, Sparkles!” she yelled up toward the balcony, sounding distinctly unrepentant. “Adora still hasn’t learned—”

Catra had let up the pressure from Adora just enough so she could push Catra off of her and sit up.

“Are you serious?” Adora sat up, brushing grass from her sleeves. “I’m going to kill you!”

Catra sat up, stretching her arms. She rolled her eyes. “I’ve heard that one before.”

Adora launched herself at the other girl, trying to grab her tail. Catra squeaked. “Stop it!” Adora was on top of Catra’s stomach, stretching for her tail. Catra pushed her face away. “If there—” Adora started, her words mumbled from her mouth being squished to the side by Catra’s hand. “Are no rules—then—I should be able to—"

Adora stopped straining all at once, going almost completely slack.

Catra looked up at her, managing to look victorious with frazzled hair and grass-covered shoulders. She had a purple leaf in her hair. “So,” she drawled, “giving up?”

Adora leaned down and kissed her, once, quickly. It was sloppy and she nearly missed Catra’s mouth altogether, but still, it worked. Catra stopped struggling immediately. She blushed, looking dazed, and, Adora thought, beautiful. Adora thought that she’d never been so happy in her entire life.

Adora grinned and grabbed her tail, squeezing once. “No rules, right?”

“Okay, quit making out!” Glimmer had teleported next to them.

Catra and Adora shrieked in surprise, and then started giggling.

Glimmer towering above them. “Adora, we have to—Adora!” Glimmer chastised. “You ruined another shirt.”

Adora rolled herself over so her head was on Catra’s stomach to look up at Glimmer. “I didn’t ruin…” she looked down at herself and saw the rip at the collarbone. “Well, that was Catra’s fault.” She lifted her head push it back into Catra’s stomach. Catra swatted her temple.

“Come on,” Glimmer said, “you said you would talk to them with me.” Glimmer crossed her arms. “They were so rude last time. Like, shouldn’t they say sorry, at least?”

Adora closed her eyes. “They’re just kids, Glimmer. I mean, most of them younger than us.”

“They won’t even relinquish weaponry! Still!” Glimmer groaned.

“They’re scared,” Catra said.

Adora got up off of Catra, who also sat up, leaning on her bent knees.

Glimmer and Adora looked at her. Catra shrugged. “Everyone in the Horde is scared of you guys. All they’ve ever known are people who want to use them. Even if they hate the Horde, they don’t have any reason to trust the princesses.”

Adora thought of her image of princesses before meeting Bow and Glimmer. She thought she hated the princesses, but Catra was right, she was afraid of them, too. She looked at Glimmer. “Maybe Catra could come too—talk to—?”

“No.” Catra stood up, not looking at either of them. “You guys were right before. Don’t worry, however much they might hate you, they still hate me more.”

“Catra—” Adora started.

“It’s true,” Catra said. “See you later.”

Adora watched her walk back into the castle, noticing the leaf was still caught in her hair. She sighed. “I just—I think Catra could get through to them better than anybody. If she just opened up a little.”

“Yeah,” Glimmer said, “since opening up is Catra’s forte.” But she softened, smiling a little at Adora. “She’ll be fine.” She offered Adora a hand.

Adora took it. “Thanks,” she said, a little absently. Why did Catra think everyone in the Horde would hate her? They all fought on the wrong side, too. And Scorpia and Entrapta had forgiven her easily enough. It’s not like she had personally wronged every person in the Horde. That made Adora pause. Maybe she _had_ personally wronged every person in the Horde.

“I asked the kitchens to make—well everything,” Glimmer said. “But what should we start them on?”

“Huh?” Adora said.

Glimmer elbowed her. “Food! I’m pretty sure the food was the only reason you defected, so I figured, what better way to get them on our side?”

“You’re brilliant.” Adora grinned. “Cake, definitely the cake.” Adora tried to focus. She could do this. Way easier than a battle. Right?

* * *

Catra didn’t understand how she could still get lost in this stupid princess castle. How did every hallway look the same? How did it have so many floors? Why did they put random holes with water everywhere just so she could step into them? There weren’t even any numbers on the doors. She ran her claws along the wall. The gouges in the stone made her feel slightly better. What else was she supposed to do? It was the only way to tell one place from another in this ridiculous pink nightmare.

She tried to breathe. She wished for a moment that Melog was with her, but they had been making themselves scarce lately. Catra had the uncomfortable suspicion that the magical alien cat was staying away from her on purpose lately so Catra couldn’t turn invisible all the time. She was being stupid. This was the nicest place she’d ever seen, and everyone was nice, and everything was great now. Just an hour ago, she’d been lying in the grass with Adora, somehow living some life that she hadn’t even known she could wish for, before. What had Perfuma said to her? Notice your emotions. Let them wash over you. Your feelings aren’t always you. Sometimes they’re just a habit. Let them come, watch them go. She tried.

She was always trying. Frustrated. Mad. (That one went without saying, she was always mad.) Something else, she realized. Scared. What could she possibly be scared of? This place was in some dimension where everyone was always perfect and smiling and happy.

But. Catra had been here long enough to see the differences between her imagination of what life had been like for Adora the last three years and what it actually was. Things weren’t perfect. There had been a handful of crises, even after Horde Prime. Once, they’d woken Adora up in the middle of the night to go be She-Ra because some incompetent town had gotten itself caught on fire. She-Ra was a firefighter now, too. Great.

And far from the lap of luxury Catra had imagined, Glimmer and Bow were actually constantly working. Glimmer was in twelve hours of meetings a day, at least. Catra would rather be tortured by Hordak than go through that. Bow had been travelling around as some kind of ambassador. Whenever he came back to the palace he was either mopey because a town had turned him away or ridiculously excited about whatever new peace treaty he had negotiated. Sometimes, when they all got like that—Bow and Glimmer and Adora— excited and bright and hopeful, Catra had to leave, go somewhere quiet.

Scared. She got scared when they got like that. Even when it was just Adora, sometimes. How could they be so hopeful? How could they be so sure that everything would go like they thought it would? That they could hold this peace forever? That they could be happy forever? How could Catra be like that—so optimistic?

And the truth was that Catra knew she would never be like that. Not like they were. She couldn’t trust that things would work out. It was stupid. It got you hurt. The world was always ready to crumble. You had to fight tooth and nail to keep it together, or you would lose everything.

And if Catra couldn’t be like that—couldn’t be like they were, all happy and trusting—then what was her place here?

Later, after their meeting with the remnants of the Horde, Catra joined them in the dining hall for dinner. She wanted to stay in her room and not talk to anyone, but when she did that Adora got all whiny.

As soon as she had walked in, Adora nearly tackled her. She kissed her on the cheek. “I missed you,” she said, grinning.

Catra flicked her arm. “You just saw me two hours ago,” she said, but she smiled back. She had made only one promise to herself, after everything—she wasn’t going to hurt Adora ever again. “So, did you win over the Horde kids?”

Adora looked at her, starry-eyed. “Did you just ask about my day?”

Catra groaned. “Forget it.” She saw Glimmer, out of the corner of her eye, entering the room. Catra sprinted to the chair at the head of the table before Glimmer could sit at it.

Glimmer stopped in her tracks when she spotted Catra. She narrowed her eyes at her.

“What?” Catra said. “Something wrong?”

Adora was clearly trying not to laugh. She sat to the left of Catra.

Bow burst into the room. “Guys! I got Thaymor. They signed.” He ran a circle around the whole of the too-big dining table.

Adora and Glimmer clapped for him.

“That’s amazing, Bow,” Glimmer said. She gave him an extremely dopey look that Catra hoped never to see again on anyone.

“Right?” he said, voice breaking. He pumped his fists in the air.

Catra shook her head. She had never seen people so willing to embarrass themselves.

“Hey.” Bow embraced Glimmer and kissed her on the temple. “Why are you sitting here today?”

Catra cackled. “Yeah, Sparkles, why are you sitting there?”

Glimmer took a big breath and let it out through her nose. She forced a smile. “It’s not a big deal. It’s not like we have to sit at the same places every day.”

Bow looked between Glimmer and Catra. Adora shook her head at him, making an X with her hands in front of her. Catra noticed she had changed into an almost-identical shirt from the one earlier. It was pale blue and shiny. Catra hated it. It was so much like this whole place, all perfect and watery and soft. In fact, Catra had just noticed that there was yet another fountain in this dining hall. She legitimately wondered if Glimmer had installed more since she’d arrived to mess with her. 

Bow sighed good-naturedly. “Do we need to talk about feelings again?”

“Do you have feelings about the chair, Sparkles?” Catra wrapped pasta around her fork.

“No,” Glimmer ground out.

“Right,” Catra said. “Anyone can sit at the head of the table. It’s not like it means something.”

“Nope,” Glimmer said, “it’s just a chair.” She stabbed a vegetable and stuffed it in her mouth.

Catra leaned back in her chair. “All it means, is that now you all have to call me Queen Catra.”

Adora snorted. Glimmer glared at her and Adora ducked her head, suddenly very intent on her food.

Bow sat next to Glimmer. “Well.” He leaned back in his chair, folded his hands in his lap and let out a big sigh. “I guess you better sign the paperwork,” he said to Glimmer.

“What paperwork? Something from Thaymor?” she said, clearly making an effort to cheer up.

Bow waved his fork in the direction of Catra. “No, the deed to the kingdom. You’ll need to sign it over to Queen Catra.”

Glimmer gaped at him while Catra and Adora broke into laughter.

“You better do it soon,” Bow continued, “before the other kingdoms see there’s a fight for the throne.”

Glimmer threw a piece of lettuce at him. “I can’t believe you’re egging her on now, too.”

Bow grinned. “She is my queen, I’m obligated to—”

“You know what!” Glimmer slammed her fork down, teleported over to Catra, and grabbed her shoulder. Catra shrieked as Glimmer teleported them to the seat Glimmer had just vacated. Glimmer grinned, sauntering back over to the head of the table, while Catra put a fist on the table, recovering from the magic.

Bow and Adora were laughing so hard that they were both crying.

Catra raised her head slowly to look at Glimmer. She held out her fork threateningly. “Do you remember, what I said I’d do to you if you did that to me again?”

“Guess you won’t take my seat again, then.” Glimmer stuck her tongue out at Catra.

“Your majesty.” A guard burst in through the doors. She looked rumpled, somehow, eyes wide. She was out of breath like she had sprinted here.

Catra sat up straight, anxiety coursing through her. Adora, Glimmer and Bow had sobered fast, too.

Glimmer recovered first. “What is it, Lydia?”

“We have a visitor,” she said, breathing hard.

Glimmer relaxed slightly. “Oh. Well, who is it?”

“No one you know, your majesty. They’re—they’re from another planet.”


	2. Chapter 2

Adora wanted the four of them to meet with the emissaries immediately, but Glimmer insisted they wait for the Princess Alliance. Glimmer met with the emissaries alone that night, a quick greeting. She told them she gave the visitors a room in the palace.

“The aliens, you mean,” Catra said.

“The visitors,” Glimmer said, “are our guests.”

“You said they knew She-Ra took down Horde Prime.” Catra looked at Glimmer sharply. “They _know_ about us.” Her voice was tense, shoulders raised.

Adora felt Catra’s anxiety ripple through her. Catra had said something similar before. To Adora, Etheria’s presence in the universe was nothing but a blessing, an opportunity for adventure. But she knew that Catra saw it differently—their victory would echo throughout the universe. Horde Prime had conquered thousands of planets. Catra had been tense, then, too, when she said, “Everyone will want to know who took him out.” She had looked at Adora, a crease between her brows. Adora had shrugged this off at the time with a joke, but she was learning to trust Catra’s political instincts.

Still, curiosity was not in itself threatening. Neither were foreigners. “I’m an alien,” Adora pointed out.

“Yeah,” Catra said with asperity, “and you turn into a giant lady with a sword who can harness the magical energy of a planet.”

“I’ve already posted guards outside their room,” Glimmer said. “What else can we do?” Her words were genuine. She looked at Catra.

Catra, who had been sitting on the buffet table ripping the napkins into shreds, hopped down. “ _Armed_ guards,” she said.

They all agreed. They also decided they would request searches of the visitors’ persons, as well as their ship. The visitors complied. Their ship’s exterior was surprisingly similar to Mara’s, but the interior was nothing alike. It was clear just how ancient the First One’s ship was, in comparison to this, and how uncomfortable. This ship looked lived in. It was covered in brightly colored fabrics. There were rugs in the bedrooms, and art on the walls. Guards searched every inch of it, and found nothing openly suspicious, but also quickly determined that none of them were able to discern dangerous from not.

Glimmer teleported to Dryl and brought back Entrapta, who Glimmer asked to do only a preliminary inspection. Entrapta was thrilled about the “highly advanced non-magical tech,” but assured them that she saw only “basic defensive weaponry.” She all but sobbed when Glimmer forced her to leave before she short-circuited something and started an intergalactic war. Glimmer posted extra guards to keep her from sneaking back in during the night.

“But what are they like?” Bow finally asked Glimmer, after they were all more or less satisfied that the visitors weren’t about to stage an attack.

Glimmer frowned. “Young. I think. They seem desperate.”

The four of them were up talking for another hour before Catra pulled Adora away with a cursory, “I’m tired. We all need sleep before we talk to the aliens.” Adora suspected that Catra was more tired of Bow and Glimmer’s enthusiasm than anything else.

Catra pulled Adora all the way through the palace—“It’s a right here,” Adora said, “and then a left.” “This place is a nightmare!” Catra said—and all the way into Adora’s room, where Catra always slept, and all the way to the bed, where Catra forced her to lie down next to her.

Adora laughed. “I haven’t even taken off my jacket.” But she wrapped her arms around Catra and settled on her pillow.

Catra’s face was pushed into Adora’s shoulder. “Don’t get up,” she mumbled.

“Fine, fine.” Adora kissed the top of her head. Catra’s arms didn’t relax around her. Adora waited for a minute, two minutes. “Are you… is everything okay?”

Catra kicked her shin, but it was gentle. “You’re supposed to be asleep.”

“Just thinking.”

Catra pulled back from her, enough to meet her eyes. “We don’t have to do this.”

“Do what?”

“Meet with them. Tomorrow.”

“Why wouldn’t we?” Adora said.

Catra growled, flipping so she was lying on her back.

“It’s just a meeting!” Adora propped herself up on one elbow to better see Catra’s face. She searched it, trying to find what was bothering her. “What?” she said. “What is it?” She reached a hand out, wanting to touch her, thought better of it.

“I’m not—” Catra screwed her eyes shut. “Being unreasonable.”

“Okay,” Adora said. “You’re not being unreasonable.”

Catra opened one blue eye. “Are you messing with me?”

“No!” she said, laughing, exasperated. “I’m trying to be—I’m trying to _listen_.” She shoved Catra’s shoulder. “But I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

Catra groaned. She flung herself up so she was sitting. “I know. I’m trying to say that I don’t like this.” She pulled her knees up, held them. “It’s weird, for them to come without warning. They could have sent a message first. They just show up like that’s normal.”

Adora sat up next to her. “That’s true. But we don’t know if it’s normal for them.”

Catra was turned away from Adora enough that she couldn’t see much of her face. Adora watched her head tilt to the side, once, and then back. “I tried to tell you before. What would happen when people found out.”

“About Horde Prime,” Adora said. She felt uncomfortable even saying the name here in their bedroom, like she might conjure a part of his presence where she wanted it least.

“He—I think he was more powerful than we can understand,” Catra said. “He had trophies of thousands of worlds. He was around for so long, destroyed so much, I don’t think he knew how to be scared. He wasn’t scared of you. He thought he was just… playing.”

Adora thought of Catra, eyes green and blank, an image that she wished she could purge from her memory. Playing. He had been playing with Catra, with them both. Adora felt her blood pumping through her veins. She wished, for a moment, that she did have something to fight. 

“Yeah,” Adora said. “And he was wrong.”

“Yeah,” Catra said, working her jaw. “And now he’s gone. You did that. And everyone knows.”

“You’re worried,” Adora said, surprised.

Catra’s tail flicked. “Obviously, idiot.” She was still looking forward.

“But, why?” Adora said. “If they know, then won’t they be the ones worried? They should be scared of us, not the other way around.”

“You’re the one who told me the First Ones made She-Ra to be their weapon. Prime tried to do the same thing. Everyone wants power, Adora.” She lifted her head, turned to look at her. “You’re powerful.”

“Right.” Adora placed a hand on Catra’s shoulder. “And it’s a good thing, it’s saved us—”

“And nearly gotten you killed! Over and over! And you’re still talking like She-Ra is some _gift_.”

“But she _is_ ,” Adora said.

Catra turned to her, took her palm and slid their fingers together. She brought Adora’s hand to her chest. “ _Adora_ is.”

Catra met Adora’s eyes. “You promised me.”

Adora ran her other hand along Catra’s cheek. “I did. I meant it.”

Catra squeezed her hand tighter.

“But I can’t hide away from the universe, Catra,” Adora said. “And Horde Prime, well he was the biggest asshole ever, obviously.” Catra snorted. “But the First Ones, they weren’t all bad. Mara was brave, and strong. And—” Adora took a breath. “I’m a First One. And I have to believe that there are more good people out there, like us.”

Adora didn’t realize until she said the words how important this was to her. She needed to know that there were other good people out there in the universe, who wanted peace and harmony. The First Ones had spread so much pain and hate. Adora wanted to undo even a little bit of it, to show the universe that magic could be used for so much more than destruction. She wanted to use She-Ra to help more than just her own people.

Catra shook her head. “I’m starting to think this good person thing is overrated.” She loosened her grip on Adora’s hand and started playing with her fingers.

Adora shrugged. “Sorry, you’re in too deep now.” Adora leaned over, kissed her cheek, her jaw, her lips.

“Please, Adora,” Catra said, leaning in, kissing her once, slow.

“What?” Adora breathed.

Catra shook her head, kissed her again. “It’s always the same thing.”

The following morning, the Princess Alliance gathered in what had once been the war room. Adora felt an alarming sense of déjà vu. She didn’t have good memories of this room. But the others didn’t seem to share her unease. Everyone was excited, chattering away about what the visitors might be like as they waited for Glimmer to arrive. Adora tried to feel the same uncomplicated anticipation. Was she ready? If she needed to fight? She tried to remember the last time she had turned into She-Ra. The fire in Lancing? Maybe she had gotten too relaxed in the weeks after Horde Prime’s fall. Maybe Catra was right.

Catra knocked Adora’s jumping knee with her own. “Quit it.”

“Isn’t Glimmer late?” Adora said. “Should we go check on her?”

Catra sat back in her chair, arms crossed. “Uh, no, she’s a big magical girl queen.”

“Aren’t you… nervous?” Adora was annoyed, not for the first time, that Catra always seemed calm whenever she was freaking out. This was especially unfair when she was freaking out because of what Catra said.

Catra frowned deeper but then flashed her a grin. “Figured you would protect me if things go south.”

“Hi guys!” Scorpia appeared behind them. Before either could react she had gathered them both in a hug, lifting them several inches out of their seats.

“Hi, Scorpia,” Catra wheezed.

“I am just so glad to see everybody!” Scorpia plucked an impossibly small pastry with her pincers when a passing waiter offered. “Thank you!” She dropped it in her mouth, seeming to swallow it whole. “Did you guys meet the visitors? Are they nice? Why are they here?”

Before Adora could answer, Mermista said, “We probably should _all_ hear about the freaky new aliens at our doorstep. Like before we have to fight them.”

“Hey,” Bow said, “nobody’s fighting anybody. They came in peace.”

“There’s only two of them,” Adora added, “and they agreed to full searches. Entrapta checked out their ship and found nothing suspicious.”

“But a lot to be excited about!” Entrapta squealed. “Their technology functions on a completely different principle than anything I’ve seen from the First Ones or the Horde. It seems to use the logic of magic without having any access to it. I haven’t isolated the mechanism by which they do fuel their ship, but if I could have a few more hours with the processer, I could—”

“Entrapta, no,” Bow said. “I made you promise you wouldn’t mess with their ship until you get their say-so.”

“Okay, I don’t care about their ship or whatever,” Mermista said. “Why are they here?”

“We don’t know,” Catra said.

“All they told Glimmer last night,” Adora said, “is that they need our help.”

“The princesses’ help?” Perfuma said. “Or She-Ra’s?”

“We don’t know anything more than that,” Bow said.

“So we’re not going to fight anybody today?” Frosta said. Everyone looked at her, only realizing now that both of her fists were covered in shards of ice.

Spinarella and Netossa, seated next to the young princess, sent her matching glares. “I told you to put those away!” Netossa said.

“ _No_!” Adora said. “We are not fighting! Anyone!”

Glimmer entered the room. “Hi everyone!” she said, bright and cheerful. Everyone was still distracted by Frosta, who had tried to get rid of her ice-fists too quickly, and instead had melted them into large puddles. Spinarella was inching her chair away from the encroaching water. “Uh, everything okay?” Glimmer said.

“Totally fine!” Bow said.

“Everything’s great and everybody’s ready!” Adora said.

Glimmer looked skeptical but she continued, “The emissaries from Zilharr are outside. Please, everyone, let’s hear what they have to say. _Without_ antagonizing them.” She looked at Catra.

“What?” Catra demanded.

“We don’t know anything about their planet or situation yet,” Glimmer said, “but I hope we can be allies. And—” Glimmer paused, smiling at them all “Thank you, guys. For being here.”

She nodded to Lydia, who brought in the visitors.

Adora remembered, first, what Glimmer had said about them looking young. They were tall, maybe as tall as Scorpia, but their faces were full, and their eyes wide. Adora would guess they were teenagers. They had green-tinted skin and luminescent eyes. They were completely bald, with bright, geometric markings on their skulls. Adora thought of the colorful art of their ship and wondered whether the markings were something they were born with or something they created. Their clothes, by contrast, were inky black and loose fitting.

“Koldo,” Glimmer said, looking at the shorter visitor with orange and red markings. “Chinara.” She addressed the young woman with purple markings. “Please, take a seat.” She gestured to two seats in between herself and Bow.

Chinara stood slightly in front of Koldo, and before either of them moved they looked at one another, quickly. When they moved to their seats, it was in tandem. 

Everyone introduced themselves briefly. Adora was struck by the newcomers’ expressiveness—they hadn’t said a word, but it was clear even to her what they were feeling. Koldo looked eager, hopeful. He was restless, even through the introductions, sitting up, relaxing, bringing his hands together and apart. Adora saw him mouthing each person’s name after they introduced themselves, as if he were memorizing each. Chinara, on the other hand, was sitting upright, legs firmly on the floor in front of her. She looked ready to bolt at the slightest disturbance. She nodded through all the introductions, but Adora kept noticing she cut her eyes to her. When Adora introduced herself, Chinara brought her brows together as if in confusion.

“You’re the one they call, She-Ra, right?” Chinara asked, the first thing either had spoken.

“Yup,” Adora said. “I mean, sometimes I’m She-Ra.” She grinned at them. “It’s nice to meet you both.”

“Thank you,” she said. “We’ve… really wanted to meet you. You don’t look like She-Ra. Or like Queen Glimmer, whose magic is very beautiful.”

Glimmer blushed. “Thank you.”

“Yeah,” Koldo said to Adora, “you don’t look anything like the pictures.” He sounded distinctly disappointed.

Catra snorted.

Bow laughed. “Don’t mention the hair, buddy.”

“Well, maybe not right now, but—” Adora pushed back from her chair, ready to transform.

Catra grabbed her forearm. “This isn’t the time for demonstrations.” She was looking at Glimmer, who nodded.

“Definitely not,” Glimmer addressed both Chinara and Koldo. “We’re glad you’re here. You said…” She paused. “That you had heard of us. We know little about the wider universe. What have you heard about our defeat of Horde Prime?”

“Not much,” Koldo said, looking at Adora. “We’ve only heard rumors about She-Ra, everyone has. But how did you do it? You have a sword, I heard.”

“Yeah,” Adora said, folding her arms, self-satisfied. “A magic sword.”

“Okay,” Glimmer said. “Aside from her appearance, what have you heard?”

But it was Chinara who answered. “She had enough magic to defeat Horde Prime. The details are… fuzzy.” She raised her eyebrows. “Are all of you magical?” There was something like longing in her voice.

“Most of us in this room have some magic, yes,” Glimmer said.

Koldo and Chinara both leaned forward in their seats, eyes wide, mouths agape. “We have waited our whole lives to see magic,” Chinara said, barely more than a whisper. “I can feel it,” she said, clutching a hand to her chest. “All of your magic. It’s almost too much. How do you bear so much at once?” She looked at Glimmer.

Glimmer smiled and shook her head. “I’ve always had magic.”

“Aw!” Scorpia said, as if she could not contain it a moment longer. “You are both so cute!”

Frosta’s fists were already ice. She pounded them on the table. “I have ice powers. You guys want to see my final form?”

Koldo nodded, staring wordlessly at her ice fists.

“Frosta!” Glimmer said.

Scorpia lifted a claw, electricity sparking through the tip. “Frosta and I have been trying to figure out how to combine ice and my zappy power. It’s been going pretty well.”

“It was very impressive, sweetie,” Perfuma said. “But maybe don’t do that while we’re still meeting our nice new friends who don’t want to get accidentally zapped and feel static electricity for the next two weeks?” She was making soothing circles on Scorpia’s claw.

“Impressive?” Netossa said. “They almost killed me.”

“Well,” Spinarella said, “they almost killed your shoes.”

“Do not start your zappy thing right now,” Mermista said. “There is water in like… every room of this place. It’s cool, because I could take any of you out any time I wanted, but it’s also like, we could all be electrocuted.”

Glimmer had her eyes scrunched closed.

“Seriously,” Catra hissed. She dug her nails into her palms. “Let’s tell them every one of our weaknesses while we’re at it.”

Adora was hoping Koldo and Chinara hadn’t heard that in the commotion, but Chinara had turned to look at Catra, considering her. “What is your magic?” she said to Catra.

“I don’t need magic,” Catra said. “And it’s time you start talking. Why are you here?”

Everyone quieted, tensing, but no one contradicted her words.

“Have I offended you?” Chinara said.

“You’re about to,” Catra said, at the same time that Glimmer said, “Of course not!”

“She’s like that with everybody,” Scorpia said. “It doesn’t mean she doesn’t like you.”

“Yeah, she tried to kill us all a bunch,” Mermista said. “And now she’s on our side, I guess.”

Catra hissed and Adora readied herself to stop Catra from launching herself at Mermista.

“All right!” Glimmer said. “I’m sorry, Chinara. She didn’t mean any offense. I promise you don’t have to worry.”

Chinara was still glancing at Catra, looking ready to bolt. She looked at Glimmer and her face softened. “Okay, Queen Glimmer. Thank you. You are both kind and brave to lead such a coalition of….” She peaked at Catra again. “Forces.”

Glimmer smiled, squeezing her hand once before continuing. “Can you tell us what you’re here for?” she said. 

“Yes.” Chinara took a breath. “We would like to offer you a trade.”

Glimmer raised an eyebrow. Adora remembered the meeting she had to sit through about their limited reserves of—something they used to heat buildings? “What kind of trade?” Glimmer asked.

“We had heard your technology is…not modern. We could help. We have engineers and scientists. We could send you a team. Get you started on a fleet of ships. Maybe even update your intra-planet transportation systems.”

“Oh,” Glimmer said. “That would be very generous. In exchange for what?”

“She-Ra,” Chinara said.

Catra cackled. “At least you said it.”

“Catra,” Adora warned.

Catra stood, extended her claws.

Chinara swallowed, leaned back away from Catra. “Why are you alarmed?”

Glimmer stood up as well, extending a hand toward Catra. “Listen, Chinara,” she said. “We’re not in the habit of trading our friends.”

Chinara folded her hands in fists, released them. She looked at Catra. “You’re scared of us.” She said it like she was trying out the words. She closed her mouth quickly, still looking terrified herself.

“No,” Catra said quickly.

She nodded, like Catra hadn’t said anything. “Please, hear us out. If you decide we have to die, after that, we will accept it. We came prepared for it. But please listen first.” She turned to Catra again. “We are no threat to you or—” She looked at Adora. “your planet’s She-Ra. We have no power. That’s why we’re here.”

Catra and Glimmer exchanged looks. They sat down, slowly.

“We’re not in the habit of executing guests, either,” Glimmer said. “Why don’t you start at the beginning? Why do you want She-ra?”

“Yes.” Chinara turned to address the whole room. “We come from a planet called Zilharr. It is—it was a beautiful planet, not unlike this one. We lived for centuries in prosperity. We had magic then, a magic that helped us grow and cultivate the land. There was trade, and cooperation, and people worked together. And then, when our parents were just children, a group was corrupted by power. They thought they could use Zilharr’s magic for their own gain. The source of magic was corrupted, and everything fell apart.”

“Corrupted?” Adora said. “The magic can be corrupted?”

“Ours can,” Chinara said. “It seems, from what we’ve heard, that our magic is different from Etheria’s. Our magic isn’t about power, it couldn’t be used for destruction. It’s about… intention. It seems on this planet, some of you are not connected to the magic?” She directed the question at Catra, who kept her scowl in place. “It isn’t like that for us. We are all connected to it, and to each other. We, ourselves are… corrupted now, too. The essence of our magic is unification. It united us to nature, to each other, to our technological systems. With the source corrupted, we are cursed to live apart—from innovation, from each other, from our very planet.”

She had tears in her eyes. “We have survived on a satellite structure for two decades, but our resources run thin. And the nature of our corruption works against us—feuds worsen, power and resources are hoarded by the strong. We cannot maintain connections.” She stopped, and took a breath.

“We’ve never even been to our home planet.” Koldo sat with his legs crossed in the chair. “Our parents fled before we were born.”

“That’s horrible!” Scorpia said, wiping a tear away.

“It’s a wasteland, now,” Chinara said. “Nothing will grow, the skies remain cloudy, the oceans ravage the land.”

“We’re sorry to hear this,” Glimmer said. “Is there nothing you can do?”

“Our parents,” Chinara said, “who were the leaders of our planet before the exodus, saved a portion of the magic before its corruption. They sealed it, in this vial.” She pulled out a chain from underneath her shirt to reveal a glass vial the size of a finger. She lifted the chain over her head and set it on the table before her. The vial could have been mistaken for mere jewelry if not for the dim light emanating from the liquid inside. “Our magic, as I said, is not about power, or quantity. Even this tiny amount is enough. While this magic remains, we still have hope. This magic needs only be brought, via a well-intentioned conduit, to the original source on Zilharr. This will reignite the magic of our planet.”

“However,” she said, “I told you that we have all been corrupted. We were connected to the source when it was sabotaged. None of us are capable of being the conduit. If we took the magic ourselves, we would corrupt it immediately, ending all chance to return to our home.”

Chinara looked at Adora. “To heal the corruption of the source, we need outside help. It is the only way the magic can be accessed. By someone uncorrupted. Someone whose intention is pure. Someone who isn’t swayed by the allure of glory. Someone honest and true. And magical. We’ve petitioned throughout the wider universe, but none are willing to help us. They’ve blamed us for own misfortunes. This task is dangerous, as our planet is now… unpredictable, but we heard what you did, She-Ra. That you shook off Horde Prime. It is a great victory, still echoing throughout the galaxies. When we heard, we knew you were our last chance. All you would need to do is drink the contents of this vial and journey to Zilharr’s source.”

The room was silent. The woman’s voice had turned almost pleading by the end. Adora recognized the look of desperation.

“Of course, you’ll want time to think it over,” Chinara said. She slid the vial toward Adora. “Consider it. It is our people’s most important object, but we will leave it here with you tonight. A token of our faith in you, She-Ra.”

Adora met the woman’s eyes and nodded, feeling the truth of her words.

“Adora.” Catra’s voice was reproachful, and pained. She stood.

Adora looked up at her. Catra’s brows were knit together, her eyes blown wide. Adora still wasn’t used to seeing her look so vulnerable.

“No,” Catra breathed. She fell back a step, as if someone had pushed her.

“Catra.” Adora put a hand out to her. “We have to—consider it.”

“You’re going to do this?” Catra’s eyes were bright and flinty. “After everything?”

Adora’s heart constricted. “It’s not the same.” Adora didn’t know how to explain it so she would understand. How could she not? How could she use She-Ra’s power for herself and not help other people when they needed it? “They’re asking for my help.”

Catra spun away from her, stalking toward Chinara.

Glimmer and Adora both stood abruptly, ready to intervene.

Before they could say anything, Catra had picked up the vial. “So what exactly is this?” she demanded. “That you want Adora to drink for you?”

“It’s magic,” Koldo said, standing up so quickly he almost fell on his own legs. “It’s only magic. You don’t have to hurt her.”

“I’m not hurting anybody,” Catra snarled at him. “Answer the question.” Her tail flicked as she glared at Chinara.

“Koldo is right.” Chinara pushed her chair back and stood, staring at Catra warily. “It’s magic.” Her hands were shaking, but she kept her voice steady. “Like I said, our magic is about intention. As long as the conduit has clear, honest intention, they can safely take the magic to the source.”

Catra growled and bunched the front of Chinara’s shirt in her hands, pulling her toward her. “Then why does it have to be She-Ra?” Catra demanded.

“Catra!” Glimmer and Adora both moved to restrain her.

“I’m fine,” Chinara said to them. “There’s no need for you to be upset.” She looked at Catra. “You’re scared to lose She-Ra. I know. I’ve been scared my whole life. That’s why I’m here. Etheria’s protector will be fine.” Catra hissed. Chinara flinched, but continued, “She will be returned safely to Etheria, ready to fight again. She has great amounts of magic. This vial was meant to be used by anyone, but we have no way to test it. Sometimes non-magical people have bad reactions to sudden exposure to magic in a pure form like this, but She-Ra will be fine.”

Catra released her, shoving Chinara back.

“Why are you scared?” Chinara demanded, searching her face. “You have—” She spread her arms to encompass the room, the world. “Everything.”

Catra flinched.

Chinara turned to Glimmer. “It’s a good trade,” she insisted.

“I told you we don’t trade friends,” Glimmer said simply.

“You said anyone?” Catra said. “Could take the magic?”

“Anyone uncorrupted,” Chinara said. “What matters most is the intention. This magic is meant to work for anyone honest in their intention to reunite it with the source. But, again, we do not know—”

Catra picked up the vial from the table. The magic lit up for her when she touched it. “Is that right,” she said.

“Catra—” Glimmer started.

“Yes,” Chinara said, pleading with Catra. “Please, you hold the hope of a world in your hand.”

Catra narrowed her eyes at her. “You are so dramatic.” She unplugged the vial and drank it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, Catra, meeting the consequences of her own actions once again. lol Hope you enjoy! I love kudos/ comments of any kind!

At first, nothing happened. Adora stared at Catra, who looked at the empty vial for a moment before tossing it on the table. Adora didn’t even realize she expected her to collapse, or—something—until she was at her elbow, looking for signs of distress. Catra hung her head for a few moments and then looked at Chinara.

“Maybe your magic’s a dud,” Catra said. “I don’t feel anything.”

Chinara’s face grew hard. She grabbed Catra’s wrist. “You have doomed us,” she hissed, close to Catra’s face.

Adora stepped in between them, shoving Chinara’s shoulder back. “Back off,” she barked.

Adora looked back at Catra, who was smirking at Chinara, looking unreasonably pleased for someone who had just drank maybe-poison and tried to start a war.

Catra noticed the look on Adora’s face and her expression fell, but before she could say anything else Adora said, voice still hard, “Are you hurt?”

Catra shook her head, wordless.

Adora nodded and headed for the door of the room, her head buzzing.

“What is your name? Catra?” Chinara said, forcing the words out between deep, panicky breaths. “I expect this means you’ll be journeying to Zilharr with us then. Pack your things.”

Adora paused at the door and looked back. “Nobody’s decided anything. You, come with me,” she said to Chinara.

“I am done complying here!” Chinara said, voice growing loud. “This—person,” she said looking at Catra, “has decided the fate of my people in one reckless moment. She made her decision when she drank the vial.”

“I,” Adora said, “haven’t decided anything. Like what to do with you. Come with me.”

Chinara looked at her for a long moment before closing her eyes. She followed Adora to the door. 

“Adora—” She heard Catra call her name before she headed down the hall, but she didn’t look back.

Adora didn’t even realize how fast she was walking down the hallway before Chinara huffed and said, “Will you slow down at least?” she said.

“Oh,” Adora said, caught off guard. “I’m sorry.” She slowed.

Glimmer appeared next to them. “I think I should be here,” she said, calm, but firm.

Adora nodded. She watched Glimmer lead them to a free meeting room, feeling numb. Her brain was playing the footage of Catra drinking the vial over and over. Of Catra last night saying, “You promised me.” 

“Oh, hi!” Entrapta fell down from the ceiling in front of the meeting room by her hair. “Weren’t we in a different room? Have I missed anything? Weren’t there more of you?”

“Entrapta,” Glimmer said. “You left?”

“I know you said not to go back to their ship, but—” Her feet touched the ground in front of Chinara. “That’s your ship out there, right?”

Chinara nodded.

Entrapta squealed and put her hands together. “I love your ship more than anything I have ever seen.”

“You… saw my ship?” Chinara said, clearly using all her strength to keep calm.

“I don’t understand the tech yet for the fueling system, but you will find that your navigation is about 10% improved. I found a few inefficiencies in the code.”

“You… reprogrammed… my spaceship.” Chinara sounded strangled.

“All right!” Glimmer said, almost yelling. “We need to sit down.”

“Okay,” Entrapta said. “I’ll be—” She was already in the vents again. “back later, bye!”

Chinara, looking dazed, sat without further protest. She sighed, loud. “I think I would prefer execution.”

This shocked Adora out of her brooding so abruptly that she laughed. It was, she realized, a very Catra comment. “Chinara,” Adora started. “Tell me about the magic, in the vial. Please.”

“She will come to Zilharr?” Chinara said. “And reignite the magic at the source?”

“I don’t know,” Adora said. “Clearly, I don’t make her decisions for her.” Adora took a breath. “But I need to know what that vial she took is going to do to her.”

“I told you. I don’t know what it will do to a non-magical creature. All I know is that the vial should work for anyone with honest intention to help us. So, since she is still living, it seems she intends to go.”

“Still living?!” Adora repeated.

“Okay, okay,” Glimmer said. “What did you mean your magic is different from ours? You said yours is about intent, not power. How does that work?”

Chinara sighed. “The other worlds we have petitioned for help do not even recognize our magic as magic. They don’t value the kind of magic that cannot be fashioned into a weapon.” She looked at Adora. “Your magic makes you a warrior, yes?”

Adora nodded.

“Our magic,” Cinara continued, “does nothing like that. It’s a magic deeply connected to our planet. It connects. It’s… subtle.” She paused. “Everything I know about our magic says that, when uncorrupted, it is healthy. I have no reason to believe it would hurt her.”

Adora nodded, feeling the knot in her chest loosen a little.

“And what about the planet?” Glimmer said. “You said it’s desolate, and dangerous.”

“It is.” Chinara nodded. “But I have studied maps and the words of the elders who remember it, as much as possible. We have studied its topography from afar, and prepared as well as possible. I will lead your friend to the source.”

Adora frowned. “But why would you need to travel across the planet? Couldn’t you be dropped off at the source?”

“If only that were possible,” Chinara said. “Unfortunately, the storm is at the center of a now-permanent storm. A storm so large and powerful, no spacecraft could land in it.”

“If it’s so powerful, how could anyone get to it on foot?” Glimmer said.

“There are a series of tunnels surrounding the source. A group of our people on the planet were underground-dwellers.”

Adora and Glimmer looked at each other. Adora shrugged. “We’ve done harder things.”

Perfuma opened the door. “I’m sorry to interrupt.” She looked at Adora “It’s Catra.”

* * *

Catra tried to leave the princess room after Adora stormed out, but Bow stopped her.

“Easy,” he said. “Why don’t you sit, so we can see if you’re all right?”

Catra threw off his hand. “I feel great.” Of course, that’s when the pain started. She felt like all the air got knocked out of her, as if someone punched her in the gut. She was nearly doubled over. She let Bow help her into a chair.

Bow crouched next to her, hovering, but the pain had already eased.

“Koldo?” Perfuma said. “Why did that happen?”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry, I don’t know.”

The door opened, and Catra couldn’t help it, she looked up when she saw the red jacket, relieved Adora was back. But it wasn’t Adora. It was a girl, maybe slightly younger than herself. Catra had mistaken her because she was in full Horde uniform. The jacket was a different cut than Adora’s, but it was the same red. Stupid—the girl was way shorter than Adora, too.

The girl saw Catra right away, looked at her, and then looked away. Catra had the feeling the girl knew who she was although Catra didn’t recognize her.

“Whoa,” the girl said, as she took in the rest of the room. “Princesses.”

Catra could tell she was trying to sound intimidating, but she ended up just sounding impressed.

“Sure.” Mermista threw her hands up. “Aliens weren’t enough, let’s talk to a random Horde girl, too.”

The girl raised an eyebrow and put a hand at her waist. “I’m the leader of the Fright Zone,” she said. “Typical that princesses wouldn’t even know.”

Catra laughed. “The leader of the Fright Zone? What Fright Zone? And why are you here?”

The girl blushed, but she didn’t back down. “I saw your girlfriend leave with some weird lady, figured there was some important meeting going on if She-Ra was here.”

“Oh, no, she’s just like you,” Bow said to Catra.

Catra ignored this. “I’m sorry,” she said, sarcastic, to the girl, “do I know you?”

“You should know me,” the girl said. “You should all know me. I’m Fae.” She swiveled to Mermista. “You met with aliens today?”

“Nope!” Bow said, shooting a glare at Mermista. “There are no aliens here.”

But Fae was already looking at Koldo. “I’ve never seen anybody who looks like you before,” she said.

“I’ve never seen anybody who looks like you before.” He stood up and offered her a hand. “Is this how you shake your hands?”

“Maybe _some_ people,” she said, looking at his hand suspiciously.

“Whatever,” Koldo said easily, retracting his hand. “I’m Koldo. Do you have magic too?”

“No,” she said, “I hate magic.”

“What?” he said, shocked.

“Okay,” Bow said, “I’m really sorry, but I have to ask you to go.” He looked at Fae.

She didn’t move. “Why weren’t you at the meeting earlier?” she asked Catra. “I thought you would be there.”

“Why?”

Fae huffed. “Because—you—you should help us.”

Catra leaned back in her chair. “Sounds like you’re a little behind, pipsqueak. I’m not with the Horde anymore.”

“I know that,” Fae said through her teeth. “But you could talk to them—”

“Why would I do that?” Catra drawled. “I don’t care what happens to the Fright Zone.” She felt the pain again, a sharp pain, like an internal burn. She gripped her stomach like that would help.

She heard everyone freaking out, but she was too focused on not passing out to listen.

Next thing she knew, Adora was invading her personal space.

“It was nothing,” Catra said, swatting at her, but the pain came right back, maybe more intense this time. She tried not to make any noise, but she heard herself groan.

“You said it wouldn’t hurt her!” she heard Adora yelling.

“I also said we couldn’t know how a non-magical being would react to it!” Chinara snapped.

Catra clasped Adora’s forearm. “Adora.”

“What?” she said, crouching down.

“It’s better now.”

Adora released a breath. “Okay. Let’s—let’s get you to Micah, see if he can do some tests, figure out the magic more.”

“I don’t want any tests,” Catra said. She realized that, thankfully, everyone but Adora and Chinara were gone. “I want to sleep.”

Adora straightened up. “Then I guess you shouldn’t have downed a vial filled with magic.”

“I’m not going to let Sparkles’ dad experiment with me.”

“Yeah, you are,” Adora said.

“So now I have no choice over this either?” Catra bit out. She looked up in time to see Adora flinch. Dammit.

“Choice?” Adora said. “Like how we all decided you should drink the vial? That we should all go fix some planet before we know anything about it?”

“I didn’t decide anything for you,” Catra said. “You don’t have to be there. No one’s making you tag along.”

Adora was breathing so hard it looked like she was running. “You’re right,” she said finally. “You can do whatever you want. I don’t have to be there.” She left.

* * *

Two days later, Adora was in what felt like the fortieth meeting to plan the trip to Zilharr. They had wanted to take a larger team, considering the number of dangers and unknowns, but in the end Chinara convinced them that the smallest team possible was best. The princesses, other than She-Ra, couldn’t use their powers in space anyway. Chinara had wanted to take only Catra and Adora, in fact, but Glimmer and Bow rejected this outright, for which Adora was grateful. Chinara assured them they could maintain communication with Etheria the entire time. They had just broken the news to Entrapta, who seemed so depressed she couldn’t join that Adora thought even Chinara felt sorry for her, and promised that her people would send more ships and their team of engineers to demonstrate their technology to her. She was mollified by the end of the meeting. So in the end, it was just Adora, Catra, Glimmer and Bow to journey to Zilharr.

Somehow, Catra had managed to miss this last meeting to determine the final team to Zilharr. Adora had barely spoken to her for the last two days. She asked asking Glimmer to check on her. She said Catra was fine, but kept having the sharp pains, seemingly at random. Adora went to talk to Micah herself, but he told her that he had no better idea about this new magic than she did. So Adora let her be.

Still. It had been two days. Catra hadn’t even come to her room at night. Adora found she couldn’t sleep at all without Catra there now, and had spent most of the last two nights in the training room.

She was tired. She was tired of worrying, and tired of being mad at Catra, and really, really tired of giving her space. So when she saw her sitting out in the garden from the window of the meeting room, she left the meeting early. She brought some fruits she knew she liked, and went out determined to get her to talk.

Catra was sitting on the bench overlooking the yard, knees pulled up, tail wrapped around her. Her hair was growing out. Adora itched to cut it again before they left. She itched to pull the ends of a strand that was curling around her ear. She itched to run her hands through Catra’s hair and pretend the last three days hadn’t happened. But Adora knew she couldn’t do any of that.

Catra didn’t turn when Adora approached.

“How did you manage to get out of so many meetings for your own mission?” Adora said, putting the basket of apples next to her.

“Meetings are for people like you,” Catra said.

“Yeah?” Adora said, walking over to the tree in front of Catra and leaning on the trunk. “And what kind of people would that be?”

“Nerds,” Catra said.

Adora scrunched her nose up at her. “You didn’t miss much, we just decided the team going with you on your mission to bring magic back to Zilharr, no big deal.”

“Is that right,” Catra said. “Let me guess, it’s just me and that pink lady.”

Adora snorted. “I’m pretty sure Spinarella would kill us all if she was stuck with us on a spaceship.”

“So you’re coming, then?” Catra said, and her voice sounded brittle underneath the attempt at nonchalance.

Adora dropped her arms to her sides. “You… really thought I would let you go without me?”

“You’re right, I should have known you’d want to make sure I don’t mess it up.”

Adora huffed. Then she picked up an apple from the basket next to Catra and hurled it as far as she could, distantly satisfied that it made it over the hedge of Bright Moon’s garden.

“So mad you’re wasting food?” Catra said. “Didn’t know you had it in you.”

“Mad?” Adora said, spinning around to stare at Catra. “I’m _scared_.” Her voice shook. “We don’t know anything about this magic, or this planet. And you’re—”

“Weak?” Catra said. “A disaster?” She dug her foot into the grass in front of her and lifted a clod of soil to fling away. “Always ruining everything?”

“No,” Adora said miserably. “I was going to say that you’re not talking to me.”

Catra stared at her. “You’re mad at _me_.”

“I’m scared!” Adora said, standing up. “I told you. We don’t know anything about this magic, or these people, and you—”

“I know,” Catra said sourly. “I started an ‘intergalactic incident,’ I heard it all from Sparkles.”

“That’s not what I mean!” Adora shouted, and it hurt her to see how shocked Catra looked. Adora gestured at Catra. “It’s doing something to you, and I can’t do anything about it!”

Catra looked away for a moment. “Why do you think I took it?” she said, voice soft.

“She-Ra can handle magic, Catra! We know that already.”

“Handle magic?” Catra repeated, making the words sound ridiculous. “Is that what you think happened, in the Heart?”

“I know it was more complicated than that, but—

“But She-Ra can do anything, right? And the rest of us are useless. Your _heartbeat_ stopped—” Catra quieted, curled in on herself.

Adora sat next to her. She put her head in her hands. “I thought we were making decisions together now.”

“I thought you believed in me now,” Catra said, barely above a whisper.

Adora looked at her, and the sunset was hitting her hair just right, so that it shone red, and she saw the little tuft that she had cut too short last week. Adora moved to sit on her knees to turn on the bench and face Catra. She took Catra’s face in her hands. “You’re the strongest person I know. And the smartest. I’m sorry for all the times I made you feel otherwise. I’ve never, ever thought you were weak, or that you couldn’t make your own decisions.” Adora let her hands fall in her lap and lowered her eyes. “I tried to make decisions for you before, and I know I can’t do that anymore. And I do believe in you, because you’re strong and smart and—” Adora’s breath hitched, and she felt tears fall. “You can’t tell me not to be worried.”

Adora felt Catra wiping her tears, before she raised her eyes.

“Don’t apologize to me, Adora.” Catra kissed her cheeks where the tears had been.

Adora found one of Catra’s hands and clasped it hard. “So, we’re okay? You’re not upset with me?”

Catra sighed, laughing a little. “You are so stupid.” And then her breath went out of her, all at once, and she leaned forward, her forehead catching Adora’s shoulder. She brought a hand to her stomach.

“Catra?” Adora said, trying to push her back up. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing,” she said, breath still shallow. As soon as she did, she doubled over again, making a sound like a whimper.

“Catra!” Adora said, more urgently. “It’s happening again?”

Catra straightened up, slowly. She was frowning, and then her face cleared all at once. She raised her eyes to Adora’s and grimaced. “Oh no.”

“What?” Adora said.

“I think I figured it out.” She looked disgusted.

“There is a trigger, you mean? What? Tell me.”

Catra’s lip curled as if noticing a stench. “I _really_ don’t want to.”

“What?” Adora yelped. “Too bad! You have to.”

“I’ll just go to Zilharr by myself, actually.”

“Catra!”

Catra let her head drop on the seat of the bench behind her and groaned. “It’s the honesty thing.” She straightened, frowned. “Or maybe intention.”

Adora waited.

“You know, how that lady said that weird stuff about the conduit needing to have honest intention?”

Adora folded her arms. “Chinara, you mean? I know you know her name.”

“Yeah,” Catra said. “Churro, I remember. Ah!” She brought both arms down to cradle her middle. “Yup,” she said weakly. “That’s definitely it.”

Adora held her by the shoulders. “Tell me.”

“It’s when I lie, okay!” She shook out of Adora’s grip.

“When you lie,” Adora said.

“Yes, it—hurts, I don’t know. She said the magic is—uncorrupted, so I guess when I lie, it—doesn’t like it. It hurts.”

Adora was thinking back to the last few minutes. “So when you said I was stupid—” She couldn’t help it, her mouth was curling up into a smile.

Catra glared. “Don’t you dare laugh.”

Adora was already laughing. “You have to be honest!” She wiped her eyes. “Bow and Glimmer are gunna die when I tell them.”

“You can’t!” Catra protested.

“I’m definitely going to.”

Catra shoved her.

“I’ll bet Melog is thrilled by this development,” Adora said. “I know they hate it when you make stuff up. Hey! Where is Melog?”

“Melog hasn’t been helping me at all, they’re pissed that I’ve been—” Catra flicked her eyes to Adora once, looked away.

“What?” Adora said.

“Can I come back?” Catra asked. “To your room tonight? I mean.” She blushed.

“I never wanted you to leave.” Adora touched her hair where the sun shone through it. “I never will."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which we learn about Chinara and the squad goes to space. Thank you for giving this fic a shot! I love your kudos/ bookmarks/ and any comments you have. The next chapter is almost all drafted, should be posted in the next few days.

Chinara never wanted this mission. This mission called for a diplomat, and an adventurer. She was neither. She had never been charming, and she certainly had never been brave. When she was young she used to dream of travel to distant planets, but even in her dreams she wanted only to find somewhere safe, and friendly. She was a lonely child. Her only real friend was her brother, Koldo. The Spire, the tower where Satellite’s leadership lived and the only home Chinara had ever known, was a cold place for a sensitive child who wanted only to dream.

She had always known she was ungrateful. She never went hungry, never had to fight for a place to sleep. And still she envied the children in the poor, volatile, bustling city below the Spire. Satellite’s architecture was brutal in its pragmatism. The huge ship was built with a wide base and a thin, tall Spire at the top. Its function was to distance the leadership families in the Spire from the rest of their people. Even within their tower, each leadership family was separated from one another as much as possible. One family per floor. The Spire was clean and quiet. The temperature regulated, the schedules regimented. Distance, always, maintained.

They did not have the supplies or the time to build Satellite so that everyone could be distanced so well. Below the Spire, the city of Exodus was laid out in wide, circular floors, each several hundred miles in diameter and each home to hundreds of thousands of people. Chinara was curious of how they lived in the city, and longed to visit it, but it was not permitted. Too dangerous, her mother said. A distraction, her father said.

Her people were cursed. As long as Zilharr’s source remained corrupted, its people were doomed to conflict and division. The people of the city would kill her as soon as greet her. It wasn’t even their fault—the magic had turned all of them suspicious, and angry, and bitter. The only thing the Council could do was stay as far away from the rest of their people as they could so that at least the leadership was as free of the corruption as possible. The corruption would turn every relationship sour, every love into hate. The best and only way to fight the corruption was to cut off its supply from the start. Remove any unnecessary connections and mitigate the damage it could do. Zilharr’s lonely and necessary fate.

Every room of the Spire, including Chinara’s, was built with the same square windows. Each of the tower’s levels rotated such that Zilharr was never long out of sight. To remember what we work for, her mother said. To remember what was taken from us, her father said. But Chinara grew up terrified of the specter of Zilharr lurking outside her window. She could see the storms swirling in dark rages along the continents. She could feel the corruption emanating from the source, the whisper that never left her telling her to be suspicious, and angry, and bitter. So Chinara dreamed of other planets instead of her own city, her own people. It was so much easier to imagine new worlds than to believe she could ever reclaim her own.

But hers was not an existence that fostered imagination. At some point in her adolescence, she stopped dreaming even of other planets. She learned to only believe in what she could see for herself, and what she saw was abandoned and destroyed. In the year before She-Ra defeated Horde Prime, Chinara dreamed only of loss.

And then Satellite heard the news of a figure they all had assumed was merely a myth, and Chinara was on the journey she would have given anything to take as a child. But it had come too late. She was too jaded to inspire a team to greatness, and too scared to lead such a dangerous journey. She was chosen for this mission because of her parents’ influence, not because of any skill of her own. The Council thought the Etherians would only speak with the highest leaders of Zilharr. Of course, these Etherians didn’t seem to care about Chinara and Koldo’s status or family. Chinara didn’t understand _what_ they cared about. 

Chinara had been just one week away from Satellite, away from Zilharr’s stormy shadow, and she couldn’t believe how stupid and naïve she had been as a child. Why did she ever wish to meet other people? They were unpredictable, rude, and, uncomfortably passionate.

The day of their departure from Etheria had finally come. Chinara had corralled them in front of the ship—the bubbly ones were engaged in overwrought, drawn-out goodbyes, with crying and laughter and assurances—when she realized she had forgotten to be sure her own brother was prepared to leave.

She must have made some noise in her distress, because the other one—the liability—said, “You all right there, Chinchilla?” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she doubled over, clutching her stomach. “I mean, Chinara.” She straightened up, glowering at Chinara once again.

Serves her right, Chinara thought. “I think I should be asking you that,” Chinara said.

“I’m great.” Catra’s tail swished behind her, almost hitting Chinara, who flinched out of the way. “Magic is great, hasn’t once ruined my entire life,” she said sourly.

Three days, Chinara thought. It will be only three days until we reach Satellite. And then we will be on Zilharr, and it won’t matter that the most difficult person in the universe is the conduit. She didn’t realize she had closed her eyes until Catra interrupted.

“You _hate_ me, don’t you?” The girl sounded weirdly delighted about this. “You absolutely can’t stand me!”

“No!” Chinara opened her mouth, then closed it, panicking when she was unable to come up with a suitable lie.

Catra cackled. “Don’t bother. I’m really, really used to people hating me.” She paused, both of them watching as Adora threw herself at Perfuma, both of them crying. “Actually, I’m glad,” Catra continued. “I was starting to think the princess brigade was turning me into a completely useless sap.”

“I find the princesses to be friendly and… sweet,” Chinara said. And although she had just been frustrated by how long they were spending on goodbyes, she found the words to be true as she said them. She had never met people so—happy.

Catra snorted, side-eyeing Chinara. “Of course you like them. They’re easy to manipulate.”

Chinara felt her anger getting the best of her again, remembering how Catra had drunk the vial without a thought for what she was doing to her people. “How can you say that?” Chinara said. “They protected you. They’re going with you, on this mission, to help you. How can you be so ungrateful?”

Catra stared at her, eyes going wide. Chinara felt a moment of satisfaction—she had finally jolted her into silence, if only for a moment—before she remembered herself.

“I am sorry,” Chinara said. “I’m being rude. We have to work together now.” She put out a hand. “You shake, on Etheria, right? As a truce?”

Catra’s chest heaved. She did not accept the handshake. “They might trust you, but I don’t,” Catra said. “Don’t think I missed the way you talked about Adora like she’s a bargaining chip. I don’t know what you really want, but I’ll be paying attention. And if you put any of them in danger, I’ll kill you myself.”

Chinara watched Catra stalk away and join the others. She allowed herself to be embraced by the kind princess with pincers. Then Bow pulled her in for a giant group hug. Chinara remembered her mother kissing her on the cheek before she left, her father dipping his head, a sign of respect she had never received from him before. She noticed her hands were shaking. She was not a fighter. She might want to kill the conduit girl, but she knew she would never win that fight. Not a physical one. She would have to find other ways to protect Koldo and herself in the ship. Three days, she thought again. She needed to find her brother.

She finally found him in the storage bay. When she did spot him, she was sweaty and frazzled from the climb down the ladder. She was scared of heights, like she was scared of so many things, and hated the descent to the storage hull. The temperature was not regulated in this part of the ship—or, apparently, in any part of Etheria. She was not used to the heat. And she was still feeling the shock of the girl’s death threat. She had, it turned out, only prepared for death in the theoretical sense.

So when she did find Koldo throwing her extra clothes into a pile on the floor, she snapped more than she meant to. “Koldo, why are you down here? I asked you to prepare the ventilation systems. Can you ever do anything I ask?”

Koldo popped up from where he was squatting, searching through the storage box. “Chinara!” he squeaked. “I’m sorry! I got distracted. I—”

He turned away from her and Chinara wondered if he was crying. Her heart clenched. She was just as bad as Catra, lashing out at everyone around her. “No.” She sat on the box beside her. “I’m sorry. I’m just—” She wiped her brow, disgusted at the sweat there. “I never thought we’d meet _this_ kind of resistance.”

Koldo was still facing away from her.

“Koldo, don’t be mad,” she said. She was so used to tension and anger, but with Koldo, it was different. She wondered sometimes if the corruption had spared Koldo entirely. Her little brother had always been trusting, and kind. For him, she tried to be better. “I’ll give you the last spicy meal tonight, okay? I need your help with these people or I’ll go crazy.”

He sat up. “I’m not mad, don’t worry.” His eyes looked a little wild.

“You’re worried about them too, aren’t you? Was that why you were hiding down here?”

“Uh—yes. Yup.” He coughed.

Chinara swallowed. “I’m so sorry I got you into this.” She felt her eyes filling.

Koldo sat next to her. “You didn’t get me in to anything. I practically forced Dad to let me come.” He groaned. “He’s going to kill me.”

“About the conduit?” Chinara said. “Don’t be ridiculous. He’s going to kill _me_.”

Koldo shook his head. “I don’t know about that,” he said darkly. He looked at Chinara. “Are they ready to go?”

“Who knows?” Chinara said miserably. “They’ve been saying goodbye for forty-five minutes. And you left me to talk to _her_.”

Koldo grinned. “She’s worse than Auntie Shay.”

Chinara groaned. “You’re right. She’ll probably send a report of my bad behavior to Mom, too.”

“What was the one?” Koldo said. “Zoning out for too long?”

“’Unforgivable sloth.’”

“Sloth!” Koldo repeated, laughing. He quieted after a moment. “What do you think of them?”

“I think we should be careful of Catra. She’s dangerous. But I think as long as She-Ra’s on our side, we’ll be okay.” Chinara wasn’t sure whether she believed this or said it for Koldo’s sake.

“Yeah,” Koldo said. “They’re not so bad though! The others. I mean, their magic was…” He trailed off.

Chinara understood. She still could hardly believe the magic they had seen from them, the power she had felt thrumming through her own veins. Even just being on the planet itself was intoxicating. “I’ve never felt so awake,” she said. “But listen, be careful, okay? Don’t go off alone with any of them.”

“Yeah, I know, I know.” Koldo ran his hands across the smooth plane of his head, as he did when he was worried. “Do you think she’ll make it? To the source?”

Chinara paused, considering. She smiled at Koldo. “I think she will.” This time, Chinara knew: she said it only for Koldo’s sake.

She remembered the last words her father had said to her before they left. “It has to be She-Ra. Do not accept another conduit. You know what the elders said about the source magic. It’s likely no one else would even survive the initial vial. Even for one as strong as she…” That’s when he had lowered his head, the sign of respect reserved for the most honored among them. Her heart filled with pride. “Do not return here without her.”

Well, Chinara thought, at least she was technically following orders. 

* * *

Adora didn’t realize until she was saying her goodbyes that she did not want to leave Bright Moon. She had begun to expect a future here. She never had before, not really. Definitely not during the years of war and uncertainty. Even back in the Fright Zone, it was still one emergency after another. A broken finger from training to hide from Shadow Weaver, a fight Catra had started with another cadet to finish. But not here, not for the last several weeks. She had been sleeping every night. Eating breakfast every morning. She trained with her friends every day, took meetings with them. No one was getting kidnapped, no Horde invasions interrupted any stolen moments of rest. Finally, Catra was by her side again. The Best Friend Squad had a weekly game night, of all things. It wasn’t a life Adora had ever known to want, but she had gotten used to it shockingly fast.

She was annoyed, for a moment, crying and embracing Perfuma in a tight hug, that it was disrupted so soon.

Who _was_ she? Had she actually enjoyed the lazy, purposeless weeks? She sighed. She should have known it couldn’t last long. And it wasn’t as if she didn’t want to travel to other planets, to help bring them magic.

Catra had rejoined them. She looked mad—more than usual. Adora raised an eyebrow at her, but Catra just shook her head. Adora took her hand. She didn’t see any obvious signs of distress from Catra, but she knew Catra would try her best to hide them, anyway. And now Melog wasn’t even around to expose what Catra was actually feeling. Adora thought she had started to rely on Melog’s reactions to Catra’s emotional state as much as Catra relied on their powers of invisibility. Catra had told her Melog had not wanted to leave Etheria yet and would stay with Scorpia and Perfuma until they returned from Zilharr. Adora didn’t admit that this worried her. She had also relied on Melog to watch out for Catra when she wasn’t around to do it. Adora was gripped by a moment of panic, thinking of the magic Catra had drunk like it was nothing. It could be doing anything to her, and Adora wouldn’t even know until—she tried to stop the thought.

She had spent so long regretting the past, returning to every mistake over and over, as if she could fix the past by reliving it. She steeled herself. The only thing to do was to focus. They would get to the source on Zilharr as fast as they could, and they would free Catra of the magic. Adora squeezed Catra’s hand. It didn’t matter that Melog wouldn’t be joining them. Adora was there now, and she would never leave Catra again.

“Okay,” Glimmer was saying, “we really have to go!” She ran over to give Micah one last hug, tears pouring down her face. Adora knew she felt guilty about leaving her father in charge of the kingdom again, but Micah had said that he was looking forward to the work of rebuilding. And Chinara had assured them that with Zilharran technological capabilities, they could stay in touch with Etheria even while they were on Zilharr.

Bow was pulling everyone into a big circle-hug. “One last group hug!” he said.

Adora went willingly, but Bow had to pull in Catra.

When the four of them finally did break apart and head into the ship, Bow grinned at Adora. “I can’t believe it’s happening! Best friend squad goes to space!”

His excitement was contagious. Adora smiled back, trying to quell her inner trepidation. “Yeah,” she said, “and no one’s kidnapped.” They all laughed.

They entered the main control room of the spaceship. Thick, vibrant rugs covered the floors. Plush sofas lined the walls wherever the control panels stopped. Tapestries hung from the back walls. The colors were rich and varied—reds, purples, and golds. There were even paintings in between the tapestries. It was as if someone had made it their life’s work to fill every available space with color. Adora loved it.

“It’s so—soft,” Catra said, like it might be catching.

Adora laughed and threw a pillow at her. “You wish it was like the barracks?”

“Kinda do.”

Chinara entered through a door that Adora had thought was just a tapestry. “Are you ready to go?” she asked.

“As ready as we can be without knowing literally anything,” Catra said.

Chinara sighed. “It will take us three days to reach Satellite,” she said. “But it’ll probably feel—a lot longer.” 

She said the words with such foreboding, and with such a disheartened look in Catra’s direction, that Adora, Bow and Glimmer all laughed uproariously at this.

Bow wiped his eyes. “Don’t worry, we’ve been with her for weeks now.”

“Hey!” Catra said.

Chinara smiled, hesitantly at Bow. “I actually just meant, it’ll feel longer if you’re not used to space travel.” She moved to the controls at the front and clicked at several keys, and they were moving.

“Whoa,” Bow said, looking out the window. “It’s so fast!” They were already in the clouds.

“I’m really glad we don’t have to rely on Bow’s driving anymore,” Glimmer said.

“Honestly?” Bow said. “Me too.”

Adora was drawn to a tapestry overhanging a section of the control paneling on the left side of the ship. It was a depiction of a mountain, so tall that its summit was obscured by what she thought must be clouds. At the base of the mountain was a symbol. Adora immediately thought of the source of magic on Zilharr that Chinara had described. It was beautiful, a star-like pattern but sharper, more complicated, the threads of the tapestry navy blue, and silver, and turquoise. Adora ran a finger along the pattern.

As she did, the ship lurched, sending them all sprawling to the ground. Chinara crawled over to Adora. “What did you press?” she yelled.

“Nothing!” Adora yelled.

Chinara was already reaching up to the control panel above her, but she couldn’t get herself upright, so Adora helped her stand. She found the right control and the ship stabilized immediately.

“Please—” She said, in between gasps. “Don’t touch that again, She-Ra.”

“We shouldn’t even let Adora into this room,” Bow said.

“Okay, okay!” Adora said. “And hey,” she said to Chinara, “you can call me Adora.”

“Okay, Adora,” she said, “and you—can not touch anything.” She was still regaining her breath. “Not _anything_.”

Adora wanted to defend herself, but she closed her mouth. “Actually, fair,” she said. “That’s fair.”

She noticed Catra was still recovering on the ground and moved to haul her up.

“Do we have rooms we can go to?” Catra asked Chinara. “Before Adora kills us all?”

A few hours later, Adora was pleasantly surprised to find that their spaceship food was much better than Mara’s. Probably they shouldn’t have eaten one thousand-year-old food, no matter how dehydrated. Koldo even let Adora try some of his spicy noodles. He confided to her that they were actually the best rations they had left. He then asked Adora a series of increasingly detailed questions about She-Ra and her magic, which Adora was more than happy to answer.

“And then, after I broke the sword to stop the world from exploding—again—I didn’t think I’d ever get She-Ra back but I finally did, when we were back on Horde Prime’s ship.”

“How’d you do it?” Koldo asked, absolutely enraptured.

“She did it to save Catra!” Bow said, almost squealing. Catra, sitting in between Adora and Bow, kicked his leg, but she was blushing.

Koldo frowned. “Okay, but _how_ did you do it?”

Adora shrugged. “I just—did it, I don’t know. I just felt her again.”

“You don’t understand your magic at all,” Chinara said, surprised.

“Pfft, well,” Adora said. “It’s not that I don’t understand it, I just don’t—”

Catra snickered. “First aliens you meet, you’ve already disappointed them.”

“I’m not disappointed!” Koldo assured her.

“She-Ra’s magic _is_ connected to Adora’s emotions,” Glimmer said. “Aunt Casta actually said all of our magic is, even spell work.”

“To emotions?” Chinara said. “Then, doesn’t it get corrupted, too? With negative emotions?””

“Actually,” Glimmer said, “it did get corrupted, when Catra—”

“That wasn’t magical,” Catra said quickly. “It was Entrapta’s tech.”

“Wasn’t she using First Ones tech?” Bow said. He and Glimmer looked at each other. Bow shrugged.

“Can you please show me?” Koldo said. “I’ll give you the best rations the rest of the trip.”

“Hey!” Glimmer said. “What about us?”

“She-Ra?” Adora said, thrilled. Koldo nodded. “Of course I can.” Adora stood, studiously ignoring Catra who had put her head in her hands, and started, “For the honor—”

“Wait, wait!” Chinara said. They all looked at her. “Did anyone else hear that?”

“Hear what?” Adora said.

“I didn’t hear anything,” Koldo said.

They all listened. There was a loud crash, and the distinct sound of someone yelping. Chinara’s eyes went wide.

“Uh, no one else should be here, right?” Adora said.

Chinara shook her head, and Adora went off down the hall toward the sound.

Adora was pretty sure the sound was coming from down the hall where the bedrooms rooms were. She popped her head in every room, but found nothing. At the end of the hall was a storage room. She stopped, out of breath, and then she spotted her, hiding behind some shelving. A girl in a Horde uniform, broken glass surrounding her on the floor.

“Who are you?” Adora asked.

“Adora—do you seriously always go running right toward the—?” Catra had appeared beside her. She stopped when she also spotted the girl, crouched in the middle of glass she was trying to pick up. “It’s you!” she said.

The girl stood up and crossed her arms, glaring at Catra. But the girl’s eyes were bright with what Adora suspected were unshed tears, and Adora was immediately disarmed. She couldn’t be older than they were.

“What are you doing here?” Catra said.

“You know each other?” Adora said, looking at Catra.

Before Catra could respond, the girl said, “I’m Fae.” She looked at Adora, and swung her loose, dark hair back from her face in defiance. “If you kick me out then, it’s—it’s war with the Fright Zone!”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not making titles for these chapters but if I was this one would be "Confessions." :)

Catra had been trying to forget the Fright Zone. Her nightmares these days favored Horde Prime’s green brain-goo bath and Adora in the Heart, and Catra figured she didn’t need any more nightmare-fodder from further back in her history. The nightmares from recent events were getting less frequent, and she was trying, for the first time in a long time, to let go of things that were bad for her. She was trying to be a better friend. She was trying to be happy. She was trying to get rid of the gnarled, rotten part of her the Fright Zone had made.

Of course, because this was her life, the Fright Zone found her even after she left the planet.

Catra had no memory of this Fae girl, but it was becoming increasingly obvious that this girl remembered her—and had some problem with her, too. When everybody else caught up to her and Adora in the storage room and saw Fae, they were, of course, ready to give her the benefit of the doubt. Except for Chinara, who was pissed. Catra actually thought that if she wasn’t constantly worried Chinara would betray them and get them all killed, she might actually like her. She knew how to get properly mad at people, which Catra knew was an under-appreciated skill.

Glimmer and Adora cleaned up the girl’s mess and insisted that they hear her out. Bow and Adora were preparing her a meal, getting her settled in the kitchen again. Catra stuck to complaining about it.

“What else can we do?” Glimmer said. “Throw her in jail and starve her?”

“Then she might tell us what she’s actually here for,” Catra said.

She was hitting some nerve with Glimmer because then Glimmer folded her arms and glared at her like she hadn’t for weeks. “Should we have done that with you then?”

“Yes,” Catra hissed. “You should have. I could have done anything.” Catra actually wished, sometimes, that they had locked her up. Maybe if they had she could let go of the guilt, too.

Glimmer threw her arms up. “Come on!”

Catra tried to calm herself, but she still felt her tail swishing behind her in agitation as they entered the kitchen. Adora and Bow were sitting on either side of Fae, being kind and attentive. Chinara was standing at the other side of the table, and Catra could practically see the smoke coming out of her ears. Koldo was pressed into the far corner, arms wrapped around himself, looking anywhere but at Fae. Interesting.

Catra sat across from Adora, Bow, and Fae. “What are you doing here?” she said to Fae. “I’m in a bad mood today, so tell me the whole thing now or I’ll throw you out the airlock.” She gasped when the pain came back to her stomach. “Gah!”

Glimmer sat next to her. “We will take you back to Etheria,” Glimmer corrected, “because we don’t throw people out of airlocks. Which—” She looked at Bow and Adora across the table, and all of them looked like they were trying not to laugh, damn them. “Seems like you already know, anyway, Catra.”

Catra sat back in her chair and looked at her claws. “Whatever.”

The girl swallowed her food, shock on her face. “How can you say that to me?” she said to Catra.

Catra sighed, loud and long-suffering. “You keep acting like you know me. Have I insulted you? You’re going to have to be specific about how, I’ve insulted too many people to keep track.”

“Yeah.” Fae slammed her fork on the table. “You insulted me. You insulted all of us.”

“Again,” Catra said, twirling her finger in the air, “you’re going to have to be more—”

The girl jumped up out of her seat. “You left us!” she screamed. “You left us to fend for ourselves! What do you think happened to us? When you weren’t there? Did you even think about us at all?”

Catra stared. The girl was actually crying, wiping tears off her face. The girl had delicate features, was short, had lower muscle tone than many in the Horde. Her hair was slicked back away from her face into a low ponytail. She spoke in loud, short sentences, and moved in aggressive bursts. Catra recognized this ploy from the Horde, because she used a different version of it herself. If you weren’t the strongest or most intimidating-looking one around, you compensated however you could.

“And you do know me!” Fae said. “You came to inspect my squad before we were deployed to Bright Moon, at the end. We told you we’d go without armor. We worked four shifts straight. We did it for you. Because you were taking control of things, you cared more about us than Shadow Weaver, than Hordak ever had. We did it because you were one of us and we believed in you.” There were still tears coming down her face, but they did nothing to soften the venom in her voice.

Catra tried to remember that time. It was not long before Horde Prime took her. She remembered little more than a haze of sleeplessness and misery. It was after Scorpia had left, after even Lonnie had given up on her. Catra was driven by only a nebulous and terrible desire to win.

“Okay,” Glimmer was saying soothingly, “maybe we should take a break.”

Catra looked up and found Adora looking at her in sympathy and looking at Fae like she was thinking about decking her, the same way Catra had seen her look since they were kids. Adora always trying to save her. Except, Adora wasn’t making a move, was she? She was waiting for Catra to decide. Catra felt her heart swell. Thank you, she thought, not sure if she was thanking Adora or the universe for Adora.

“I didn’t leave anybody,” Catra said to the girl, satisfied by how even her voice sounded. “Horde Prime zapped me up into his spaceship with Hordak and Glimmer.”

“I know that,” Fae said. “I meant—after. It’s been weeks and weeks since She-Ra—” The girl said it with a level of disdain Catra had thought only she could manage. “turned you against us and finally defeated us all. And fine, you switched sides. Whatever. I guess Prime really would turn us into zombies. But why didn’t you come back for us? Why did you abandon us?”

Catra stood up, too. She hadn’t stamped out that gnarled, rotten part after all. She could feel it there trying to dissolve her insides. “Why would you want me back there? What did I ever do for you? You said yourself I sent you and your friends out to the front lines, again and again. Why didn’t you hate me?” Her voice broke on the last part.

“Because I was in love with you!” Fae yelled back, her fists clenched, leaning over the table toward Catra.

Bow and Glimmer gaped, mouths hanging open to their chins, looking back and forth between Catra and Fae.

“Wh—what?” Adora said, making that dumb almost-chuckle she did.

Catra saw realization flood Fae’s eyes. Catra watched her eyes flick to Koldo, of all people, over in the corner. Fae was looking like she might _ask_ them to throw her out of the airlock.

“You—you really didn’t know?” Fae asked in a small voice.

Catra just shook her head.

Chinara sighed long behind her. “Are all Etherian political summits this emotional?” she asked.

“All the ones I’ve been to have been, actually, yeah,” Bow said.

Fae was still staring at Catra, so she cleared her throat and tried to come up with a response. “I—uh—” She looked at Adora automatically, who was still staring in shock and totally unhelpful. Catra had not talked to Perfuma nearly enough to say, “I’ve been in love with this blonde girl for my entire life,” to a room full of people.

Fae rolled her eyes. “I _know_ you’re a thing now, everybody does. And anyway, I’m not anymore, okay?”

It was, as usual, Glimmer who brought order back to the meeting. “I still don’t understand,” she said. “What does uh—any of that have to do with you being a stowaway on our ship?”

Fae wiped her eyes. “Catra didn’t come to the meeting, and she wouldn’t talk to me when I saw her before, with all the princesses. I had to come here. If this mission is for the leaders of Etheria, then it’s for me, too.” She met Glimmer’s eyes, and her expression steeled as quickly as it had softened. “I deserve to be here. To show Etheria what the Fright Zone can do. And if I help you with Zilharr, you have to recognize me as leader. We won’t be pushed around by you princesses anymore.”

Glimmer and Bow set a cot up for Fae in the same storage room where they first found her, ironically, since the bedrooms were all occupied. Chinara wanted to throw her down into the large storage hull until they decided what to do with her, but Glimmer and Bow wouldn’t consider it. Adora was quiet, letting the rest of them argue it out. And Koldo had not taken a full breath since Fae had entered the room.

“It’s a liability to allow her to stay here,” Chinara said.

“It’s already been—what? Twelve hours since we left Etheria, right?” Adora said. “We would lose a full day if we brought her back.”

“So what?” Catra said. “Their magic has been corrupted for years. What’s another day?”

“We don’t know how the magic’s affecting you,” Adora said. “Another day could be bad.”

“She’s a warrior too, then?” Chinara said. “She grew up with you two?”

“Not with us,” Adora said. “But yes, she was trained in the Horde. It’s true, she could be really helpful. If she wants to be.”

Chinara frowned. “It also means she could fight against us. She said she loved you, but she seemed very angry with you now,” she said to Catra. “Would she try to kill you?”

Adora laughed and turned to Catra. “I don’t know, do you think you could take her?” She smirked.

Catra rolled her eyes. “She can go ahead and try.”

“She wouldn’t do that,” Koldo said.

They all turned to him. “I mean, I think,” he amended.

“You’ve been creepier than normal,” Catra said, pointing a finger at him. “What’s wrong with you?”

“My brother is not creepy!” Chinara said.

“He really is,” Catra said. “But don’t worry, still not as creepy as you. The cape? Really?”

Chinara touched the piece of black fabric hanging from her shoulders. “It’s not—” she started. She shook her head. “My clothing isn’t important.”

“You have been quiet, Koldo,” Adora said. “Is something wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, everything’s been great!” Koldo said.

“You knew something about that girl,” Catra said.

Koldo’s eyes widened, then his brows pulled together. “What girl?”

Catra laughed. “I knew it.”

“Did you know she was on the ship?” Adora said gently.

Koldo ran his hands along the red-orange markings on his skull. “I have no idea what you mean,” he said.

“I think he helped her on in the first place,” Catra said to Adora. She noticed Chinara again for the first time in several minutes. She was looking at Koldo in shock.

“You did, didn’t you?” Chinara said to Koldo, her voice shaking. “You lied to me,” she whispered.

It was then that Glimmer and Bow came rushing back in. Glimmer reached Adora’s side and hung off her arm, panting. “Running sucks. How do you do this all the time?”

Bow pointed a finger at Koldo. “You helped Fae sneak on the ship!”

“Are you two always this behind?” Catra said.

“Admit it, at least,” Chinara said to her brother. Her eyes were wide and hard.

“She can help us,” Koldo said, eyes wide and pleading.

“This team is already too big,” Chinara said, “and has too many—” She looked at Catra. “Variables.”

Catra hissed.

“She’s a warrior,” Koldo said. “And she said that we shouldn’t leave the fate of our world on these unjust leaders.”

“Hey!” said Glimmer, Bow, Adora, and Catra.

“We are not unjust leaders,” Adora said in the tone of utmost offense.

Chinara continued to stare at her brother, looking betrayed.

“Fae says,” Koldo started. “That this one’s not democratically elected.” He pointed at Glimmer. “That this one is a war criminal.” He pointed at Catra. “That this one has no power of any kind.” He pointed at Bow. “And that She-Ra betrayed her own people to help a monarchy and continues to make unilateral, dangerous decisions.”

Even Catra could not form a response to these indictments. But, Chinara and Koldo did not need any of their input.

“We didn’t choose these Etherians,” Chinara said, waving her hand at them. “They forced our hand,” Koldo. “And now you have forced mine. When we reach Satellite, you and your stowaway will remain there. You’re no longer a part of this mission.”

“It’s not like I chose to be a princess—much less _queen_!” Glimmer was saying furiously to Bow a few minutes later, when the two of them and Catra and Adora were alone in the dining hall. “He acted like I took the throne for myself! Well if someone else wants to connect to the rune stone and make all the hard choices for a kingdom, then they can be my guest!”

Bow, who was sitting at the end of the table, nodded along. He was looking at his eponymous bow as if he had never seen it before. “Is this… all I am?”

Catra clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Yeah, it is bud. And Sparkles, you _are_ an unjust monarch. Are you two really only now having these crises? How are you _still_ behind?”

Adora was sitting on the dining table with her head cradled in her hands. “Do I make bad choices?”

“Yes, constantly,” Catra said.

Adora gave her a sour look. “Why aren’t _you_ freaked out at all?”

“Because I—” Catra hopped up onto the tabletop next to Adora and wrapped her tail around her, “am a master of self-reflection.” But she groaned and held onto her stomach.

Adora snorted.

“Well,” Catra said through her teeth, “trying to be.”

Glimmer looked up at her from where she was sitting in front of Catra and Adora. “Oh yeah? You didn’t even know Fae was in love with you!” She laughed.

At this, Bow perked up and came over to sit on Glimmer’s lap. “Bow!” she said, but she put her arms around his waist. “Catra has an admirer!” Bow said, singing the words.

“Oh, shut up, Arrow Boy,” Catra said.

Glimmer leaned over to see Catra past Bow’s torso. “I did _not_ see that one coming. You have admirers! In the Horde! Do you think,” she was talking just to Bow now, “that they had like a Catra fan club?”

Bow was nodding. “And they would meet every week and rank Catra’s battle looks?”

Glimmer and Bow dissolved into giggles. Catra looked at Adora, who was red in the face trying not to laugh.

“Okay, fine we get it, it’s very funny I would have a fan club. Can we actually talk about what she’s up to then?” Catra said.

“What do you mean?” Glimmer said.

“Clearly,” Catra started, “she just said that as a ploy for sympathy. What is she really up to?”

Glimmer frowned, and she and Bow and Adora all exchanged looks.

“What?” Catra snapped.

“I believed her,” Bow said. “Everything she said.”

“So you just want to trust her?” Catra said, scathing.

“At the meeting, before we left,” Adora said, “Fae was so quiet I didn’t even remember her. Some other kids talked much more. Glimmer and I didn’t know what she wanted, what the Horde kids wanted.” She shrugged. “She said more to you than any of them did in five hours of meetings.”

Catra frowned.

“Oh, and there’s something else, guys,” Bow said, leaning forward.

“Bow!” Glimmer said, pushing him off her lap. “My legs are asleep.”

“Sorry!” he said, and stood up. He crossed his arms and looked at Adora. “Glimmer and I were talking. When you first got on the ship, did you really touch anything on the control panel? Before it lurched?”

Adora shrugged. “I mean, I must have. You know I’m not any good with tech.”

“Yes, but, you couldn’t have hardly touched anything, you know?”

Catra leaned forward. “What are you saying?”

“I talked to Entrapta earlier on the tracker pad.” He looked at Glimmer. “She’s been thinking about this ship’s fueling systems more. She couldn’t figure out how they were working. But, she saw that it was different from First Ones’ systems, that it’s missing something that should be necessary. She—well she thinks this ship runs at least partly with magic.”

“With magic?” Adora said. “But I thought they couldn’t use any of their magic.”

Bow shrugged. “I know. But there’s something else. I told Entrapta about how the ship almost fell out of the sky, and well, she didn’t know for sure, but she thinks it could have something to do with your magic, Adora.”

“What? How?”

“Chinara said their magic is completely different from ours, but Entrapta has a theory. She thinks all magic shares an—essence. Entrapta thinks your magic and theirs might interact, but that it might be unpredictable.” They were all looking at Adora.

“You shouldn’t turn into She-Ra,” Catra said. “Not until we know more.”

Adora nodded. “Not unless something really dangerous—”

“No,” Catra said, “not at all. Okay?”

Glimmer and Bow nodded, but they looked a little freaked out. Catra knew they all relied on She-Ra too much, but this was ridiculous. Still, “Catra’s right,” Glimmer said.

Adora nodded. “Okay.”

“So.” Adora was leaning on the door frame to their bedroom later that night. “Should I be worried?”

“What are you talking about?” Catra was sprawled out on the bed.

Adora straightened and crossed the room to sit by Catra’s feet. “She’s pretty cute. Pretty romantic, too, her following you into space to confess her—”

Catra pushed Adora off the bed with one foot.

“Ow!” Adora said from the floor, but she was laughing.

“You’re really funny, Adora,” Catra said. “If this whole She-Ra thing doesn’t work out you can just be court jester.”

Adora sat up on the floor with her legs crossed. “You really didn’t know her? Back—then?”

Catra felt the hesitancy and anxiety in Adora’s voice. For all the time they’d spent together lately, and all they’d talked about a lot of things, there were some topics they’d both avoided.

Catra groaned and flopped down on the bed. She ran her hands down her face. “No.”

“Okay,” Adora said easily.

“I don’t really remember much from then,” Catra said.

“Yeah,” Adora said, gentle.

“I don’t know why she said all that,” Catra said. “She must think it’ll work on me.”

“Why she said all what?”

“About all them looking up to me or whatever.”

When Adora didn’t answer for a few moments, Catra turned her head to look at her. Adora was biting her lip, staring into the middle distance.

“Did you break your brain?” Catra said. “Why do you look weird?”

Adora didn’t even respond to this. “I think she meant it, Catra,” Adora said seriously.

“That they wanted me to what? Stay with them? Lead them? And that whole bit about her being in love with me? Come on, she’s just after something. They all hated me.”

Adora had that weird look on her face again.

“Adoooora.” Catra leaned over the bed and waved her hand. “What’s with your face?”

“Sorry.” Adora smiled a little. “Do you remember that time, we were like—fifteen?—when that girl from another squad came over to our barracks and asked if you could help her train? Because she saw us sparring and was impressed by how you used your claws?”

Catra frowned, and then her face cleared. “Oh yeah, and I did! But then she was all weird, and didn’t want to train at all. She kept asking me questions. She was just trying to scope us out for the next battle simulation.”

Adora snorted. “Yeah, I remember you said that. But see, the next day she came by looking for you. And she uh—asked about you.”

“Asked what?”

“Asked…” Adora blushed. “You know, whether you were seeing anyone.”

“What!”

“What I’m trying to say,” Adora went on, “is that she liked you. A lot of people liked you, and not just like that. Lonnie always looked up to you. You always think people hate you, but they don’t.” Adora looked up at her and smiled. She looked so guileless it almost made Catra mad again, but mostly it made the beating of her heart painful.

Catra wanted to disagree, or deflect. There was even that dark part of her that wanted to make Adora hurt, to show her that Catra was still capable of that, too. But she was trying, now. So instead, she let herself wonder if maybe Adora was a little bit right.

“You never told me that,” Catra said.

Adora blushed even more. “Oh yeah?” She laughed, nervous. “I guess I didn’t.”

Catra flopped over on her stomach and put her head in her hands at the edge of the bed. “Why didn’t you?” she said.

“Forgot, I guess.”

“What did you tell her, then?” Catra said. “When she asked about me.”

“Psht, it was so long ago, I don’t remember.” The tips of Adora’s ears were red now.

“You are a terrible liar,” Catra said, drawing out each word. “Why do you even bother?”

“I don’t lie!” Adora said.

“Then what did you say?” Catra had leaned so far over the edge of the bed she could almost reach Adora’s knee. “Huh?”

Adora mumbled something so low Catra couldn’t hear her.

“What was that, Adora?” Catra said, wheedling.

“I told her,” Adora grumbled, “that you said you hated her and you would scratch her face if she came around again.” Adora looked up once, at Catra, looking miserable. “I’m sorry, Catra, I shouldn’t have done that.”

Catra tried to keep herself from grinning. She leaned even further off the bed to turn Adora’s chin toward her with a finger. “Why?” she demanded.

“I didn’t want you to see her again, okay?”

“Why?” Catra demanded.

“I’m sorry! I know it was stupid, I made things worse for you. You were perfectly nice to her but I made it seem like—”

“Adora.” Catra waited until she met her eyes again. She let herself smile.

“You’re not mad?” she said.

“You were jealous?” Catra said, and although she had meant to be teasing, when the words were out she realized how much they meant to her.

“Yes, okay?” Adora said, petulant.

Catra slid all the way off the bed and into Adora’s lap. “Adora,” she said, hearing the glee in her own voice. “I didn’t know you had it in you.” Catra ran her hands along Adora’s scalp, messing up her ponytail, and kissed her.

“You’re not mad?” Adora said, when they broke apart.

“Mad?” Catra said, incredulous, kissing her jawline. “I _never_ —” She pulled back. “You _liked_ me then?”

“Yes,” Adora said, looking dazed.

Catra kissed her again, pressing herself as close to Adora as possible. “That Fae girl is kinda cute,” she said when she finally pulled away, breathing heavy. “I think I’ll give her a shot.” Catra groaned. “Dammit.” She clutched at her stomach.

“Catra!” Adora said, but then she giggled when she realized what the pain meant.

“Stupid vial.” Catra shook her head, recovering, and sat back on her heels. She tugged a piece of Adora’s hair out of its poof. “I always thought you knew.”

“I always thought you did.”

Catra laughed, but it came out as something close to a sob. “I love you, Adora.”

Adora’s eyes immediately welled up, but Catra didn’t let her cry for long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Catra definitely has a Horde fan club, we all know it. :D Hope you enjoyed the fluff, do your teeth hurt? Might be a few days until the next chapter. Your kudos/ bookmarks/ comments give me life points. Enjoy the weekend, everybody.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The gang reaches Satellite. This chapter is a bit longer than the previous ones since it needed to get things in motion for the Satellite arc. Kudos/ comments/ bookmarks are my sustenance, lifeblood, &c. I'm so excited to see people reading and following this fic. Thank you and hope you enjoy!

Everyone had always told Fae to wait. Wait for a promotion, wait for the end of the war, wait for supplies to arrive for the starving and ragged survivors of the Fright Zone. The Horde had loved to tell her to wait—for dinner, for sleep, for a worthwhile mission, for _armor_ —and the princesses were just as bad. Even her squad mates loved to say, “Just calm down, Fae, let’s wait and see.” For most of her life, Fae thought everyone was right. She believed them when they told her that her impatience was a fault. She listened to their advice. She tried to silence her own objections and quell her own persistence. She knew she was a difficult person. Too loud and too passionate and spoke too many uncomfortable truths. After all, no one in the Fright Zone was like her.

And then Catra was promoted to second in command to Lord Hordak. Fae watched her lead and saw someone who was like her. Catra was decisive and fearless and didn’t wait for anything or anyone. Fae watched her accomplish more in a year than Shadow Weaver had managed in a decade. She watched Catra win battles and organize the Horde and stand up to Hordak himself. And Fae realized: she had been right all along. Everyone else had always been holding her back. If you wanted to succeed, you couldn’t wait for anybody to give you permission. You had to move before they could tell you to stop.

Fae understood that Catra didn’t have the time or inclination to pay any attention to her, even though she had devoted all of her efforts to helping Catra. Fae knew that if she ever wanted Catra to really see her, she would have to become someone better. Someone worthy of her.

Everyone in Fae’s squad was terrified when they heard Catra was kidnapped by Horde Prime, but not Fae. She knew how strong Catra was, and she knew she’d outwit Prime like she’d outwitted Hordak. And then, she’d come back to them. So Fae started preparing for her return. She organized those who hadn’t yet fled the Fright Zone. She provided food and shelter, leading raids on nearby villages when they had to. She prepared their defenses in case the princesses decided to wipe them out, too. They survived.

And then they heard that Catra was helping the princesses now. Fae didn’t doubt her. War made strange allies. Fine. She’d be back.

But she wasn’t. And Fae wasn’t waiting any longer.

Fae thought maybe the princesses had turned on her after she helped them win the war. They’d probably thrown her in jail as soon as they had used her up. So Fae led a team to travel to the stronghold, with the pretense of a de-escalation summit. The princess wanted them to relinquish weaponry. “We’re finally at peace,” their letter had read. Fae had laughed. Whose peace?

Fae believed in Catra all the way up until she saw her betrayal herself. Catra was laughing and joking around with those princesses. With She-Ra, who had betrayed and abandoned them. Catra looked happy, and well-fed. She didn’t look like someone from the Fright Zone. She didn’t even look like herself. She had forgotten about them.

Now, Fae had a new purpose. She would never abandon her people. She didn’t need to fawn over Catra, or anyone. She didn’t need to find a leader for the Fright Zone. She would lead it herself.

And if she had to sneak onto an alien spaceship to do it, well, she’d already snuck onto this ship. What was one more?

* * *

Adora thought Glimmer might actually slap Chinara. Adora was not surprised she was physically restraining one of her friends from doing so, but she was surprised it was Glimmer and not Catra.

“Glimmer, this won’t help anything,” Adora was saying, struggling to hold onto her. She looked over at Catra. “Don’t bother helping or anything.”

Catra smirked. “Aw, thanks, Adora, I won’t.”

“Gah!” Adora said, having to reposition her hold on Glimmer when she tried to duck under Adora’s arm.

“Just let her go,” Catra said. “Maybe Sparkles will knock some sense into her.” Her smirk turned much darker as she turned to Chinara.

Chinara was cowering in the window of the control room, squeezing herself in the corner next to one of the control panels. Satellite was visible above her head in the distance.

They had reached Satellite’s communication radius half an hour ago. Once they were at this distance, they could speak with their controllers and request admission to their airspace. Chinara had chosen this moment to inform them that she and Koldo would be entering Satellite first only with Adora. Glimmer had launched herself at Chinara before she had even finished speaking.

“I am done with you, lady!” Glimmer was yelling from behind Adora. “You have been messing with us from the start! And we know your ship is running on magic, okay?”

Chinara, who had been anxiously glancing between Adora and the doorway as if deciding whether to trust Adora’s brute force or her ability to flee, focused at this. “Of course it isn’t,” she said, managing to sound very haughty for someone cowering on the floor.

Bow entered the room then. “Glimmer!” he said.

Glimmer groaned and raised her arms in surrender. “Okay, okay, I won’t, I give up,” she said.

“Let’s just talk about this,” Adora said.

“Talk about what?” Bow said, turning to Catra.

“Cape lady wants to enter Satellite with only Adora,” Catra said.

“What? Why?” Bow said.

“Because,” Glimmer said, “she’s a horrible sneak! What aren’t you telling us?” she turned back to Chinara. “What are you going to do to Adora?” She took a step toward Chinara again, before Adora stepped between them once again.

“She said,” Catra said to Bow, “that she should ‘break the news’ to them. About them not getting their hands on She-Ra as the conduit.” Catra smirked.

“Seriously?” Bow said, turning on Chinara. “You want us to let you take Adora alone? Why?”

“They’re not going to be happy about Catra drinking the vial, all right?” Chinara said, looking pleading now. “This will be better for everyone if I can show them She-Ra is at least with us.”

“Better for _you_ , you mean,” Bow said.

Catra knocked Bow on the shoulder with her own. “Finally growing a brain cell, are we? I’m proud of you, Arrows.”

Bow gathered Catra in a hug before she could dodge it. “Catra! That was so sweet!” He released her, and pet her on the head. Catra hissed but Adora didn’t think her heart was even in it. “But don’t distract me.” He turned to Chinara. “No. We’re not doing this. We all go in together. They’ll still see Adora is here.”

Chinara rose up from her crouch, hands out in front of her and looking at Glimmer. “I thought we understood each other, Queen Glimmer. You are clearly a brilliant and strong leader.”

“Okay, stop with the flattery,” Glimmer said unconvincingly. But she folded her arms and huffed. “Well? Then tell us. Why?”

“The Council was… very set on She-Ra as the conduit,” Chinara said. “We were all quite sure she was our very best chance. They’re going to be upset that this isn’t the case.”

“Yeah, well we don’t all get what we want,” Catra said.

“Evidently.” Chinara took a breath. “It’s not just about what they will do to me.”

“What does that mean?” Adora said.

“If they see the conduit is so…” She drifted off, waving a hand at Catra.

“Reckless?” Glimmer said.

“Rude?” Bow said.

“Maddening?” Adora said.

Catra punched Bow in the arm. Hard, Adora thought, since he actually flinched.

“Yes,” Chinara said. “The Council doesn’t react well to insolence.”

“So what? Nothing they can do now.” Adora shrugged.

Chinara dropped her eyes to the floor.

“What?” Glimmer said, her voice commanding.

“My people are careful, and thorough,” Chinara said. “I worry they will want to run tests, do training. Keep Catra on Satellite for some time.”

“I’m not doing that,” Catra said.

She nodded. “I didn’t think so.”

“You’re saying they would detain Catra,” Glimmer said.

“It’s a possibility,” Chinara said.

“What!” Adora and Bow both said.

“You want to lie to them,” Glimmer continued.

“I believe deception is necessary to ensure the success of this mission.”

“You want to tell them Adora did take the vial.” Catra tilted her head. “Not bad. There’s still no reason to hide the rest of us.”

“They wanted a small team,” Chinara said. “They wanted only She-Ra. They were scared of only She-Ra. So many of you… could be taken as threatening. My people hate large groups. For us, it brings only destruction.”

“Adora and I will go,” Glimmer said, as if it was final.

Everyone started yelling at once.

“I will leave you to it,” Chinara said. “I think She-Ra and the queen would be acceptable to the Council.” She made to leave the control room. “Please try to hurry, we should have reported in twenty minutes ago.”

“Have you forgotten Adora can’t even She-Ra out right now?” Catra said to Glimmer once Chinara had left.

“And you can’t teleport,” Bow said.

Glimmer turned to Adora. “What do you think?”

“She basically told us they would hold Catra if they found out,” Adora said. “And Catra can’t even lie to them right now.”

“You can’t lie ever!” Catra said.

“But I can,” Glimmer said. “And Adora’s fine when she’s prepared. And we can bring a tracker pad. If anything happens, we can let you both know. And,” she said, over Bow’s further objection, “there’s the problem of Fae. Chinara wants to leave her on Satellite, but we can’t do that. But we also can’t leave her on the ship on her own. It’s better if Bow and Catra stay on the ship with her. This is the best move.”

“I’ll throw her out into space right now,” Catra said. “Problem solved.” She groaned and clutched her stomach.

“Bow?” Glimmer said.

“Keep the tracker pad on the entire time,” Bow said. “If we can follow your location, then I’m in.”

“Catra?” Glimmer said.

Catra glared at Adora. “It’s a good plan,” Adora said to her.

“It’s not a plan at all,” Catra said. “But it can be.” She sighed. “Fine. But we keep her creepy brother here with us too.” She grinned in a way that was equal parts conniving and delighted. Adora felt relieved every day that Catra was on her side again, but right now the feeling was especially strong.

* * *

Fae lowered herself from the piping outside the control room and dropped to the ground quietly. Cute, that they thought she would follow their orders. She didn’t spend three days in a spaceship being mistreated and disrespected only to hole up in the storage room while She-Ra and the purple one were exploring an alien city, no doubt making important connections and negotiations.

She stalked back to the storage room. She needed to gather a pack of things and strategize. She was thinking so deeply that she startled when she found Koldo sitting on her cot behind the shelves of rations.

“Hey,” he said, one leg crossed over the other. “What are you up to?”

Fae crossed her arms. “Making yourself comfortable?” She still couldn’t get a handle on this guy. She knew he liked her. She had used that to convince him to help her on the ship. He had been the one to find her, in fact, after they met briefly in the princess room. He acted all charming, but she knew he and his sister weren’t telling any of them much. Even Glimmer understood that.

“What are you doing?” Koldo was watching her pack some light rations in her bag.

“They’re gunna try to keep us both on the ship while they go into Satellite.”

“What?” Koldo said. “Me too?” He sounded betrayed.

Fae laughed. “You were going to leave me forever, huh?” she said, teasing.

“No.” Koldo uncrossed his legs. “I was going to ask if you wanted to see the Spire with me.” He really was embarrassingly sincere about everything.

“That boring old tower you were telling me about?” She shook her head. “I don’t know why you’d want to go back there.”

Koldo didn’t rise to this bait. Fae was realizing he never rose to the bait she expected. “What are you going to do?” he said, instead.

“I’m going to go to Satellite myself. I’m not going to stay here just because the princesses say so. I’ll force your Council to include me in their meetings.” She stared down Koldo, daring him to disagree.

Koldo’s eyes sparked. He walked over to her, so close that Fae had to force herself not to step back from him. But all he did was reach into her bag and pull out one of the ration packages. “Not this one.” He threw it back on the shelf. “I have some ideas,” he said, reaching above Fae’s head for something on the top shelf. “If you have room in that pack for two.” He dropped some more things in the bag.

Fae kicked him in the shin.

“Ow!” he said, hopping up and down, and eventually falling back on the cot. “What was that for!”

Fae narrowed her eyes at him. “You can come. But don’t slow me down, or I’ll leave you behind.”

Koldo smiled, and it somehow made his expression more intense. “I know.”

* * *

Adora found Catra staring out the window at Satellite.

“Hey,” Adora said, interlocking their fingers.

Catra didn’t respond, but she didn’t pull away from her either. Adora looked at Satellite, too. Its tall Spire, its base wide and rounded. They were approaching it quickly. Adora hadn’t realized how huge it was until they were closer. They were nearly to the base of the tower, and the wide structure below them was so big that they couldn’t see the end of it to the left or right. Adora kept trying to see through the windows, to catch a glimpse of the kind of people she was about to meet, but they were perfect reflectors. All she could see was the mirror image of their own ship floating.

“It’s not Horde Prime, this time,” Adora said.

“I know that,” Catra snapped, but she gripped Adora’s hand tighter.

“We can’t be afraid of everything we don’t know,” Adora said.

“That’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever said,” Catra said, but she immediately groaned and reached for her middle.

“And you have to keep location on,” Bow was saying and he and Glimmer entered the loading area of the ship, too. “Not just the power.”

“Yes, I’ve got it, Bow,” Glimmer said.

“And you have to call us within the next three hours. And earlier if anything weird happens. And remember to set the frequency right.”

“Got it,” Glimmer said.

“And you—”

“We’ve got it all, Bow!” Glimmer said, laughing.

Chinara walked in. “Ready?”

“Ready,” Glimmer and Adora said.

Chinara had agreed easily enough to their terms. They would stay for only several hours—heading back to the ship before it was time to sleep. They would keep in contact with Bow and Catra on the tracker pad. Chinara assured them the refueling process was completely automated—there would be no reason for anyone on Satellite to enter the ship. Still, she maintained that Catra, Bow, Fae, and Koldo should remain in the large storage hull, out of sight. Chinara had agreed that Koldo would stay on the ship with them. She had agreed so quickly to this, in fact, that Adora suspected she was relieved.

Chinara had spoken with the controllers at the base of the Spire, where they would enter. The ship shuddered gently as they docked.

Bow hugged Adora and Glimmer both. “Be careful!” he said.

“We will!” Glimmer assured him.

Adora kissed Catra on the cheek, and she and Glimmer moved to follow Chinara and leave the spacecraft.

“Adora, don’t be an idiot!” Catra said.

Adora turned her head and grinned. Catra’s blue and gold eyes were bright. Adora blew her a kiss, and she, Glimmer, and Chinara entered Satellite.

Adora hadn’t consciously imagined what to expect from the Spire, but she guessed she had been imagining something like the ship—colorful and soft. Artistic. The atrium where Chinara led her and Glimmer too was nothing like that. It was a huge area, spartan and cold. She looked at Glimmer, who also looked surprised. They had assumed the Zilharrans would come to meet them, but apparently that was not the case. There was exposed piping all along the walls and the ceiling, some of which was leaking. It looked surprisingly ill-kept, compared to the exterior of Satellite. Adora had to dodge puddles here and there as they crossed the expanse.

“It’s a hangar,” Chinara said. “For the ships. I requested a docking station far from the entrance to the Spire. Hopefully it will keep anyone from venturing inside.”

“Good idea,” Glimmer said.

When they eventually reached a door, Chinara turned to them. Her hand was shaking. “Are you ready?” she asked them.

Glimmer and Adora nodded.

Chinara opened the door to a waiting area with a bank of what looked like elevators. A man approached them. Adora’s first thought was that he looked like Chinara and Koldo but older. And scarier.

“Chinara,” he said, a cursory greeting. He held his hand out to Adora. “She-Ra,” he said. Adora shook his hand. “I am Benat, High Councilor of the Spire.”

“Nice to meet you, sir,” Adora said.

“I am Queen Glimmer of Bright Moon,” Glimmer introduced herself, holding out her hand. Adora stared, tense, but Benat took her hand quickly enough.

“Thank you for coming,” he said. “We were not expecting a queen, too.”

“There were many of us on Etheria who were eager to help your people, Benat,” Glimmer said. “Not just She-Ra.”

“They were very hospitable, Father,” Chinara said. “We met with the rulers of many kingdoms.”

Adora couldn’t help but look at Glimmer. This was her _father_? Adora didn’t have much experience with fathers, but Bow and Glimmer’s relationships with theirs were nothing like this.

“Yes,” Benat said. He looked similar to Chinara and Koldo, and Adora wondered now if this was more of a familial resemblance than a similarity between all Zilharrans. His eyes reminded Adora of Koldo—dark and serious—and he had a similar willowy stature as Chinara. The markings on his head were nothing alike, however. They were black and white, jagged and sharp. His clothes were also mostly black, but they too had white markings along the cuffs and collar that matched the markings on his scalp. Nothing like Chinara and Koldo’s soft, bright colors. 

“Father, you…” Chinara stopped herself. “Congratulations on your promotion.”

Benat ran a hand along his skull. Adora guessed this meant the markings indicated rank. “Thank you,” he said. “It looks intimidating, does it not?” He laughed.

“It really does!” Adora said, laughing and relieved, before Glimmer elbowed her. “Uh, sir,” she finished.

Benat was already at the doors to the elevators. “Please,” he said, motioning for them to enter. They followed, and he pressed a button. They rose, quickly. The elevator was encased completely in glass, as was the shaft through which they rose. Through the glass they watched each level rush by, a kaleidoscope of worlds, changing and shifting through every level. Adora wanted to ask if they could slow down so she could take in each. Residential levels, a level full of plant-life. Colorful levels, others where nothing at all could be seen. Both Adora and Glimmer were pressed close enough to the glass that it fogged with their breath.

“You lived here your whole life?” Glimmer said. “It’s beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Chinara said.

“We have done as much as we could with our temporary home,” Benat said. “But it is nothing to what we had on Zilharr.” His voice was low and gravelly.

Adora turned around at his tone. She was suddenly wary of having him out of sight. But as soon as she had the thought, he smiled again at her kindly.

“The curse has made us a strange people,” he said. “Not so easy-going, I think, like others in the universe. I’m sorry if our way makes you uneasy. We’re not used to guests.”

Adora remembered that feeling from when she first left the Horde. How strange she felt around everyone, even Bow and Glimmer. How she worried that she would never really belong with friendly, open people. “I grew up a soldier,” she told Benat. “I still don’t know how to relax.”

When they came to a halt and the doors opened, they walked through a maze of rooms. Here were the rich colors and thick carpets. The lighting was soft and warm. But unlike the spaceship, these rooms had no art on the walls, none of the messy and homey clutter of a well-used space. Each room was small, with only one or two places to sit. Adora was lost before they had crossed through three of the rooms—which all had multiple doorways. She hoped Glimmer kept her bearings because Adora would have no chance of retracing their steps.

Benat finally led them to a narrow hallway that opened into a sparse, open room. The entire far wall was glass, floor-to-ceiling. And outside the windows was Zilharr.

They had seen the planet from afar on their approach, but they hadn’t been close enough to see anything that made the planet distinctive. But here, they could see the storms swirling in angry, red storms. They could see the mountainous terrain and the gray seas. Adora felt a pang. She couldn’t imagine what she would feel if Etheria were so devastated.

The planet was so close and so large that only a section of it was visible from this room. Adora was drawn to the spectacle of it at first, but after a minute of staring, she turned away, wishing that she could leave this room and the planet’s menacing gaze. She shook herself. What was she thinking? It was just a planet. Its destruction wasn’t catching.

“It must be hard for you to imagine what it was,” Benat said. “Why we long to have what was taken from us back. So badly.”

“It’s not hard,” Glimmer said, but her voice was gentle. “We almost lost our own planet. We feel your loss, too.”

Benat nodded. “Please, sit. We will be having a meeting with the entire Council after dinner, if that’s all right? It will be twelve of us altogether. If you can accept it.”

“Of course,” Glimmer said, shooting Adora a confused look. Adora shrugged.

“That’s settled, then,” Benat said. “But first, dinner will be served. Please, take a seat.”

Benat himself sat at the head of the table. Adora and Glimmer sat to his right, facing Zilharr, Chinara to his left.

Dinner passed easily enough, with stilted pleasantries and careful silences. Adora tried to enjoy the food, which was delicious, but she continued to feel uneasy. Watched. Zilharr was huge above them. Adora kept wondering if it was getting bigger, if they were getting closer to it, pulled in by its gravity.

“No ill effects from the source magic?” Benat asked. He accepted a plate of dessert by a silent and masked person dressed all in black. There was nothing particularly frightening about the person’s mask—it was plain, and also black, but Adora was reminded uncomfortably of Shadow Weaver.

Adora couldn’t help it—she looked at Glimmer. But Glimmer, much more skilled in deception, kept her eyes fixed on the plate in front of her. “Nope!” Adora said. She shut her mouth, remembering how Glimmer had told her to only say as much as she absolutely had to.

“I’m glad to hear it,” Benat said. “Chinara said as much, of course. What did you feel then, when you took the vial?”

Crap. Adora didn’t have an answer to this. “Weird!” Adora said. “But like a good weird! It was kinda nice actually, do you have any more I could take?” She chuckled nervously, and saw Glimmer’s jaw clench.

“No, we do not,” Benat said, lowering his fork and forgoing the bite of the pastry-like food he was about to eat. “That vial was our very last chance.”

“She’s just kidding!” Glimmer said. “Sorry about that, she didn’t mean any offense.”

“I didn’t!” Adora said. “Sorry!”

“Etherian humor is very different from ours, Father,” Chinara said.

“I see,” Benat said. “Of course.” He dabbed his mouth with a cloth. “I hope you will understand I don’t mean any offense by this, either.” He looked at Adora, and she felt pinned in, his eyes to her right, Zilharr everywhere else. “My people are expecting She-Ra, not…” He gestured at Adora. “This form. I worry, that if everyone meets you like this, they will not share my confidence in your abilities to reach the source.”

“You want me to transform,” Adora said.

“She can’t,” Glimmer said. “We don’t know how the vial will interact with She-Ra’s full powers. There’s no reason to risk it until she needs to.”

“Our magic and yours are completely separate,” Benat said, taking another bite. “There’s no need to worry.”

Glimmer leaned forward. “We are happy to be guests on Satellite, and to meet you and your people. But l think we’re having a misunderstanding. We are putting ourselves at great personal risk to come to Zilharr’s aid. You are not in a position to be making demands of us.”

Benat put a hand to his chest. “My mistake, Queen Glimmer. As I said, I meant no offense, and I certainly make no demands of you or of She-Ra. I only thought to give some advice, since I am much more familiar with the Council than you are. They know of She-Ra. They don’t know of her other form. They will be hesitant to put the fate of Zilharr in a stranger’s hands.”

“They’ve already put the fate of Zilharr in a stranger’s hands,” Glimmer said.

“Of course.” Benat pushed his seat back and rose. “I’ll let the Council know you’re ready. Chinara, please let our guests know what to expect.”

As soon as he left the room, Adora let out all the breath she had been holding and let her head drop onto the table in front of her. “I’m sorry, Glimmer,” she said, peeking at her with one eye.

Glimmer shook her head. “I mean I knew you would be bad at this, but really Adora? ‘Do you have any more I can take?’” She snorted. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. Chinara, why was your father pushing us on the She-Ra thing?”

Chinara shrugged. “I told you the same thing. They know She-Ra. They’ll want to see her.”

“Well he was very rude about it,” Glimmer grumbled. “His ‘advice’ sounded more like a threat.”

Adora sat up. “Glimmer!” she said, “He’s her dad!” She turned to Chinara. “You didn’t tell us.”

“Yes, well, I didn’t know he would be promoted to the Council,” she said.

“He wasn’t when you left?” Glimmer said.

“No.”

Glimmer turned to Adora. “I don’t like this. Maybe we should tell Bow and Catra to be ready.”

Adora frowned, thinking. She didn’t like Benat, she didn’t like this room, she didn’t like any of this. But still, wasn’t she being unfair? So what if they didn’t know Etherian customs? They probably weren’t trying to be rude, and Adora probably just felt bad because she was nervous.

Chinara spoke before Adora had formed a response. “Please, hold off until after the meeting. Your friends will do something rash if you tell them of your worries.”

Adora and Glimmer looked at each other. On this they agreed with Chinara.

“I’m sorry this is all strange for you,” Chinara said, “but the Council—and my father—are just trying to do best by their people. There’s nothing to worry about.”

Adora and Glimmer nodded. “Okay,” Adora said. “We’ll wait to see what they have to say.”

* * *

Catra and Bow were waiting in the storage hull. Bow had brought pillows and covers down so they could be comfortable, but neither of them were using them. Bow had been fiddling with the tracker pad for the last hour since Adora and Glimmer left. Whenever the pad beeped he shot Catra a concerned glance, as if worried she would snap at him for the noise. She hadn’t been going to, but the fact that he assumed she would made her mad, so she hissed at him whenever he gave her an apologetic look.

Catra herself had paced for twenty minutes before Fae had told her that if she didn’t quit it, she would show her just how soft Catra had gotten since she left the Horde. Before the two actually came to blows, Bow and Koldo pulled them away from each other. Bow agreed with Koldo when he suggested he and Fae stay hidden in her makeshift bedroom upstairs, instead. Koldo assured them that it too was hidden from view to the outside.

Once they were gone, Catra started exploring the hull’s storage, although most everything was extremely boring. Tools, and food, and lots of stuff she didn’t understand. She eventually did find a container with clothing in it, which she was happily rifling through, throwing items out onto the floor as she went. She found what looked like one of Chinara’s shirts, with a cape on the back, and considered changing into it before they got back to mess with her. But then she noticed something that looked like a notebook.

“No. Way.” Catra said with glee. It was worn, full of inserts and folded pages and scribbles and diagrams. “A _diary_?” But then she looked closer and saw that almost everything was written in a different language. “Dammit.” She almost threw it back in the bin, but then she reconsidered. There were a lot of pictures, maybe she could still figure it out. At least enough to torture Chinara about whatever dumb stuff she had in here. She took the shirt with the cape at the back, too.

She sat near Bow, on one of the big pillows that she had to admit was very comfortable. She was looking through Chinara’s diary for a few minutes, spending most of the time trying to decipher a hand-drawn map, when she looked up. She realized how worried Bow must be that he didn’t even notice Catra was making a mess.

“You haven’t lost them, have you?” Catra said.

Bow sighed. “They haven’t moved for half an hour now. Looks like they’re near the top of the Spire.”

Catra groaned and flung out on the other pillow next to her. It did not, to her disappointment, burst. “This is so boring.”

Bow glanced up at her. “You can just say you’re worried.”

“I’m not worried.” Catra growled in frustration when her stomach hurt. She pointed one clawed finger at Bow, her face still pressed into the pillow. “Don’t say a word.”

Bow just smiled and kept pressing buttons on the tracker pad.

“What was that thing, Adora did?” Catra said, raising herself up on her elbows.

“What thing?” Bow said.

“That—” Catra, scowling, mimed blowing a kiss.

“It’s blowing a kiss!” Bow said. “I remember we had to explain it to Adora, too. It’s like kissing from a distance, so you have to blow it to the other person. It’s sweet.”

Catra looked at him with her lip curled in revulsion. “What have you two done to her?” she said in the darkest tones possible.

“I know you liked it!” Bow said.

“I did n—” Catra remembered herself in time. She was really getting sick of this stupid cursed magic.

Bow gave her the stupidest look ever, and Catra jumped up. “Gah! I am out of here. I’m checking on the pipsqueak.”

Catra climbed up the ladder to the main area of the ship. At least it was cooler up here. Down in the hull it was worse than the Fright Zone, hot and stuffy and dank. Catra stuck her head in the supply room. “Behaving yourselves?” she drawled.

They were nowhere to be seen. She checked each aisle of shelving, each corner of the room. She went on to search the rest of the ship, but she already knew they were gone.

She raced back down to the hull, and showed Bow the note she found on Fae’s bed. “We’ve got a problem,” Catra said.

“We’ll be back soon!” Bow read from the note. “Thanks for nothing! Xoxo, Fae.” He looked up at Catra. “Oh, no. This is bad.”

“I told you we should have thrown her out of the airlock,” Catra said.


	7. Chapter 7

Chinara had seen her mother exactly ten times throughout her life. The first was when she was four years old and beginning her formal leadership training. The only thing Chinara remembered from the encounter was the hug before her mother left. Chinara had clung to her mother’s chest, sobbing. Her father had to pry her away.

The next time her mother talked to her from behind glass.

Before Chinara and Koldo left for Etheria, her mother had come to see her. The tenth time Chinara had laid eyes on her own mother. Chinara had long since decided she didn’t need or want affection from anyone, and yet when her mother had kissed her on the cheek at the loading dock, Chinara had leaned into it. Maybe, if everything went right on Etheria, she would see her mother more.

Chinara’s mother wrote her letters in lieu of direct contact. In the letters, her mother explained that she was High Council, which made the extreme distance necessary. Her mother lived completely alone, with very limited access even to her husband, Chinara’s father. The letters explained that Chinara’s father had turned down a position on the Council so that he could take care of Chinara and Koldo while her mother was unable to. She wrote that this distance was necessary to save them all. But one day, Chinara’s tutor wrote out a few sentences for her to copy. The handwriting was just the same as the letters. Chinara never knew whether her mother commanded her tutor to write them or if her tutor had taken pity on Chinara and fabricated the letters herself. Chinara was too afraid to ask.

When Chinara was ten years old, she failed a test. She had refused to answer any of the questions. The gambit worked; her mother came to see her. She entered Chinara’s room an hour later, looking resplendent in the red robes and matching scalp-markings of High Council.

“Do you hate me?” she had asked Chinara.

“Yes,” Chinara said. “I hate you more than anything.” Chinara didn’t know then that she didn’t know much about hate. Not yet.

Chinara’s mother nodded. “We’ve done our best with you, but you’re not immune to the corruption. Your heart is heavy with hate. It always will be. It’s no excuse for insubordination.” Her mother rose.

Chinara said the first thing she thought of, just to keep her there. “Do you hate me?”

Her mother’s face seemed to crack. Every piece of it fell apart. “I try not to think of you.”

Chinara refused to take her next test, and the next, but it never worked after that. Chinara didn’t see her mother again until Chinara took the mission to Etheria, seven years later.

Chinara’s heart, heavy as it was with hate, still lurched at the sight of her mother. She entered the room last, after the rest of the Council had taken their seats around the table where Glimmer and Adora sat. Chinara followed her mother’s movements, helpless to do anything else, but her mother gave no indication she recognized her presence, even as she sat at the head of the table, far from them, and welcomed them to Satellite.

“Adora,” she said. “And Queen Glimmer. Welcome to our temporary dwelling. I’m Izar, High Council of Satellite.”

“Thank you, Izar,” Glimmer said. She looked around at all the other Council members, who all shared Benat’s jagged white and black markings on their heads and clothing. Chinara suspected that this, however, was not what startled Glimmer. They were also all wearing masks, all decorated with the same white markings. It was a precaution against the corruption, since they were so many in one room, but she knew Glimmer and Adora would find it peculiar.

“The meal we ate with Benat was delicious,” Glimmer said. “Were you too busy to eat? I’ve taken strange mealtimes since I’ve been queen.”

Izar raised her eyebrows. Chinara noticed the lines there, at the corners of her eyes. How old was she? Chinara had no idea.

“I was fortunate to eat the same meal,” Izar said, “although in a different room. Did Chinara not explain the nature of the corruption to you?”

“I told them of the corruption, Mother.” Chinara forced herself to meet her mother’s eyes. “But not of our customs to mitigate its effects.” Chinara noticed Glimmer and Adora reacting to her calling Izar ‘Mother,’ but they at least refrained from saying anything aloud.

“I see.” Izar turned back to Glimmer and Adora. “The corruption breeds suspicion, and anger, and bitterness. It turns us Zilharrans against one another. Twists our hope into despair, our faith into jealousy, our love into hate. We are at least aware of it. To lessen the inevitable effects, we are forced to stay distant from one another. Without forming the close bonds of our ancestors and others in the universe,” She nodded at Glimmer and Adora, “we also avoid the worst effects of the corruption.”

“That’s horrible,” Adora said. “I’m sorry.”

“We do not dwell on it,” Izar said. “We work through it, so that one day we can be free of it.”

“By asking us to reignite the source of magic on Zilharr,” Glimmer said.

Izar smiled. “Yes. Our best hope.”

“We want to help,” Adora said.

“We are very grateful for it,” Izar said. “Chinara said you agreed to the terms of trade? Our engineers should reach Etheria tomorrow, in fact.”

“Yes,” Glimmer said. “The terms were very generous. Our, uh, head engineer—” She and Adora looked at each other and giggled. Chinara could almost feel the tension in the room. Their closeness, their friendship, was obvious. “is very excited to meet them.”

“Perfect,” Izar said. “Now. There is much to prepare before She-Ra reaches the source.”

“I am fully prepared, Mother,” Chinara said. “In fact I’ve already begun to teach them the maps of the underground dwellers’ tunnels and to strategize with them about how to—”

“And yet more is necessary,” Izar said. She turned her gaze to Adora. “Chinara tells us that you aren’t transforming into She-Ra away from Etheria.”

“Yes,” Adora said. “I—we’re worried about the way her magic and the vial’s might interact.”

Izar sighed. “Because of our nature, there is much deception in Satellite. It used to make me angry when people lied to me—” She turned her gaze to Chinara, who felt her body turn to ice. “But I have learned to focus that energy toward more productive ends.” She turned back to Adora. “I’m sure you have reasons to lie. After all, even with the corruption, I still have reasons for all that I do.”

Adora was looking at Glimmer, and Chinara held her breath. She knew these people were quick to fight.

“You’re accusing Adora of lying?” Glimmer said. Chinara thought her righteous anger sounded halfway believable.

“We have already scanned the both of you for traces of the magic,” Izar said, “and although it’s clear Adora is in fact magical, it is equally clear that she has not drunk the contents of the vial we sent with Chinara.”

“Mother,” Chinara said. “I can explain.”

“I’m not interested in explanations,” Izar said. “I want to know where the vial is. I put a great deal of trust in you, Chinara. Have you failed us?”

“I—” Chinara started, but even through her increasing panic, these words made no sense to her. “What do you mean your scans? We can’t scan for magic. We don’t have any systems like that. We never could get close enough to study it.”

“Did you think you have a monopoly on deception?” Izar said, her eyes so clear they were nearly blank.

“So you have been using magic,” Glimmer said.

Izar nodded once. “We heard you already suspected our ships used magical fuel. The entirety of the Spire, in fact, uses that same fuel. We are not completely helpless.” She looked out at Zilharr. “Zilharr,” she said, and there was naked longing in her voice. Chinara had never heard her mother sound like that. “Our home was once beautiful and strong. We will return to it. No matter what.”

“Magical fuel?” Chinara said, after a moment, her mind working desperately to keep up. “What are you talking about, Mother? We don’t have any magic.”

“Chinara,” Izar said sharply. “Did you think the people of Exodus stayed away from us through good will?”

“But—” Chinara continued. “But our magic is corrupted. It couldn’t be here, close to us. It would make everything worse…”

“Now you understand,” Izar said. “We would never have kept control without it. It was necessary.”

Chinara stood up. “Then why did you bother? Why did we all have to stay apart, forever? Why would you never see me? If you never cared about slowing the corruption anyway? If you had it—” She broke off, imagining the corruption all around them, getting worse and worse, eating away at the only good left in them. It was hard to breathe, and the next words came out strangled. “All around us!”

“And I kept you as far from it as possible!” Izar yelled at Chinara. Chinara saw something in her mother’s eyes for just a moment, something pained and deep, but it disappeared like a stone in water. “You, and many others, never discovered this very secret,” she said. “So I believe all our efforts were not in vain. The magic is imperfect, corrupted, but still necessary, daughter. We would never have survived otherwise.” Izar waved to the two men who had been standing at the door and stood. “Adora. Will you tell us where the vial is?”

She narrowed her eyes. “No.”

“So you admit that your people stole it for their own gain.”

“What?” Adora said. “No, of course not.”

“Mother, it’s not like that, it’s—”

Izar turned to Chinara. “Then tell me. Where is it?”

Chinara felt both Adora and Glimmer’s eyes on her. She could tell her mother now. That Catra had taken the vial. Let the Council decide from there. But Chinara was feeling… guilty. She had convinced these people to leave their planet and help them. They would benefit from the science and tech they were sending to Etheria, but clearly they were thriving without it. In fact, Chinara knew that it was not why they agreed to go. They had agreed to go only because Catra had already taken the vial and they wouldn’t let her go without them. Chinara even believed them when they said that they would have gone anyway, just to help people they didn’t know.

Chinara thought all this, under the scrutiny of the Etherians and the Council, but when she spoke she knew there was only one reason she refused to help her mother. There was only one thing stronger in her than the fear, and that was the heavy hate in her heart.

Chinara lowered her eyes. “I don’t know.”

Izar nodded. “Then we can assume the Etherians have it, or have used it already.” For the first time she addressed the rest of the Council. “We knew this was a possibility. It’s time for us to accept our fate, and mitigate the damage, as always.” She turned to Adora. “We’ll have use for you, yet. Will you willingly stay with us, as per the terms of your trade?”

“We did not trade Adora!” Glimmer said, before Adora could respond. “We do not trade people.”

“Then you should not have taken the last hope of our people for yourselves,” Izar said, motioning for the guards to surround Adora. “It’s lucky that you can’t transform at the moment.”

“I have to try, Glimmer,” Adora said.

“Adora, they just said they are using the corrupted magic,” Glimmer said. “Right here on the ship—She-Ra could—"

“Let me escort She-Ra,” Chinara said, realizing Adora was about to transform and stand and fight here and now. She didn’t know what exactly would happen if they did, but it would be bad. They would lose their last chance of leading Catra, and the uncorrupted magic, to the source. Her mother was wrong. They could still save Zilharr. But she knew better now than to think her mother would ever listen to her. She would have to do this on her own.

Everyone looked at her. She met Adora’s eyes and tried to look like someone who could be trusted.

Chinara swallowed and continued, “Adora is a warrior even without She-Ra. She will fight us, if we force her hand, and she won’t tell us anything. But if I stay with her and ensure her safety, as someone she trusts,” _Trust me_ , she asked silently with her eyes, “then she will tell us all about Etherian magic. She is a great scholar of Etheria’s magic, as she is its greatest practitioner. Right, Adora?” She turned to her mother without waiting for a response. “It’s not as if you would harm She-Ra, Mother?”

“Of course we will not harm her,” Izar said. “She is a powerful asset.”

Chinara turned to Glimmer. “And you would rather someone who knows her whereabouts is close by, would you not?” Chinara stared at Glimmer hard, willing her to understand.

Adora looked at Glimmer, back at Chinara. “What about Glimmer?”

“Queen Glimmer may return to the ship,” Izar said. “We will even provide a pilot to return her to her home. We have no wish to war with Etheria.”

“I think you should return to the ship,” Adora said slowly to Glimmer. “Yes, I’ll go with Chinara.”

Glimmer held her eye contact for a moment and then nodded. “I see I have no choice.”

“It’s an uncomfortable position to be in, isn’t it?” Izar said.

When Chinara passed by Glimmer as she followed the guards leading Adora out of the room, Glimmer pulled her in for a hug. “I know you did your best!” Glimmer said, pretending a wail.

“This is—uh—the Etherian way!” Chinara said over Glimmer’s head to the Council.

Glimmer slid the tracker pad between them for Chinara to slide beneath her shirt. “You better know what you’re doing,” she whispered. _I hope so, too,_ Chinara thought. She needed to get a message to Koldo, to the ship, immediately.

* * *

Koldo couldn’t wait to leave the ship. He was impressed when Fae thought to start a fight with Catra so they would send them back upstairs, but when he saw her grinding her teeth and muttering about “the traitor,” he doubted the move was planned. No matter. He liked how unpredictable Fae was. He had spent his life with every minute scheduled. He was ready for surprises.

“Koldo,” Fae said, “pay attention. How else can we leave other than the hull? There’s no way we’re getting passed them.”

He handed her a coil of rope. “Ready to climb?”

There was an emergency exit on each side of the ship, but the problem was that while it was docked, it was thirty feet in the air. Koldo hoped his kinesthetics courses would finally be good for something.

He opened the exit door and peered down. That couldn’t only be thirty feet. It wasn’t like he was about to back down now, though. He tied the end of the rope to some piping and dropped the other end out into the hangar. He gripped the rope, which was sturdy and studded with knots, and prepared to leap. “I’ll go first,” he said to Fae.

She peered over the ledge into the hangar. “Good luck,” she said, but it sounded more like “Nice knowing you.”

He smiled at her and jumped. It wasn’t so bad. His shoulders pulled at the impact of the fall, but his grip remained firm. He started the descent, one hand over the other. When he was halfway down, he looked up at Fae. He couldn’t see very well, but he thought she looked impressed. This gave him so much confidence that he lifted one hand off the rope to give her a wave, only to ruin it a moment later when he slid five feet down the rope when his arms tired. At least he didn’t fall.

Koldo was proud of his success until he watched Fae climb. She finished in half the time and wasn’t even out of breath when she joined him. “You didn’t die,” she said. “Good job.” He would have felt a lot better about it if she had said it sarcastically, but she sounded completely genuine.

He led her out of the hangar to the elevator bank to the Spire, but when she peered up the glass shaft, she said, “Ugh, you want to go straight into the boring tower?”

“I thought you wanted to be part of the meeting,” Koldo said.

“Well, I did,” Fae said, “but I’m not going to bother joining a meeting I wasn’t even invited to. And just because your sister and the stupid Council think they’re in charge, it doesn’t mean they’re really the ones running things. I want to meet whoever’s in charge of this city you told me about.”

“You want to go to Exodus?” Koldo said.

Fae walked to the elevator bank and reached out toward the down button.

Koldo grabbed her wrist. “Wait!”

She looked at his hand on her arm, and he released her. “Sorry,” he said, “but you can’t just go down there. You need special permissions.”

Fae glared at him. “Don’t tell me to wait.” She pressed the button.

It wasn’t like Koldo had never thought about sneaking into Exodus. In fact, he was surprised he was sixteen years old and still hadn’t tried it. He had wanted to visit the city from the first time he had heard of it. The markets, the bustling alleyways, the electric bikes! He was always told they were dirty and dangerous, but it had never stopped him from wanting to see them. If anything, the stories of the city’s danger made him more eager to go. Some days, stuck in his room with his tutor reciting history to him, he wished for danger. At least Chinara got to hole up by herself with a book for a few hours a day. But Koldo had to be with his tutor all day, every day, and his tutor absolutely loathed him. “If you just tried harder,” he said, “I wouldn’t have to be here at all.” Koldo spent most of his days fantasizing about doing just this—escaping to Exodus.

However, the reality of doing so was quite different from his daydreams. There were several things written in the elevator bank about which floor went where, but of course Koldo couldn’t parse them with no time and increasing panic, so he pressed one at random. “Uh, this should be good,” he said to Fae.

She gave him a look like she would rather he had splattered on the floor of the hangar.

The doors opened to a huge, bustling atrium. People were rushing this way and that, seemingly with no pattern or order. Several people nearly ran into them as soon as they stepped out of the elevator. Koldo had been expecting guards, but there was nothing stopping them from simply entering the station. 

Fae turned back to Koldo, still too stunned from the sensory overload to move. “Come on.” She grabbed his hand. “Let’s go.”

She weaved through the crowds as if she did it every day, seeming unbothered by the jostling. Koldo grazed at least a dozen people with his elbows in those several minutes, and it was more people than he had touched in years. It was both exhilarating and overwhelming.

Koldo hadn’t even thought to disguise Fae until they were here, but thankfully he realized he needn’t have worried. Fae looked different from everyone in the Spire, but there were so many different looking people here. No one noticed Fae at all. Koldo had no idea Exodus was so diverse.

Fae eventually found an exit to the crowded station, and pushed them through it. The street was both smaller and more wonderful than Koldo had imagined. Vendors were cooking on open grills on the sides of the street, throwing smoke and the scent of fatty meat in the air. Electric bikes and other transportation devices were weaving through the pedestrian traffic, so close that any of them could reach out and touch each other if they wanted. There were tents with artisans selling their fabric and jewelry, children yelling to passerby about the prices of their parents’ crafts. But most of the people were simply rushing to get somewhere else. Koldo loved it.

He realized Fae was nowhere in sight, and panicked for a moment before she returned with two rolls. “You’re welcome,” she said, handing him one.

“Thanks!” he said. “Wait, how’d you get this?”

She shrugged. “They didn’t see me. I don’t think.”

She ate the roll in two bites, stuffing more of it in her mouth than Koldo thought possible. Both of them were still struggling to navigate the busy street, and Koldo found himself similarly stuffing the roll in his mouth before it got knocked out of his hands.

“I’ve never seen so many people together in my life,” Fae said. “How do they not run into each other?”

Koldo shook his head. “I don’t know. But they’re not! They’re not fighting each other, or anything,” he said, thinking back to what his tutor had told him: _They’ll as soon kill you as look at you._

They walked for long enough that Koldo became uncomfortable in the heat. Did they prefer the temperature hotter than in the Spire? He found that odd. Koldo knew that Exodus had factories and businesses, but he had never learned about the restaurants, and the shops, and the art galleries. He didn’t learn about the musicians playing music for tips, or that the buildings were so tall he couldn’t see the tops of them. He didn’t know that there were people who, when he and Fae stopped at a crossroads, would ask if they needed directions to the shuttle station.

“People are… nice, here,” Koldo said.

It was so loud on the street Fae had to ask him to repeat himself. When he did Fae shrugged. “Seem just like normal people.”

“But that’s the thing,” he said, leaning closer to her so she could hear. “All these people are corrupted. Worse than in the Spire. When people are all together like this, it gets worse and worse.”

Fae dodged out of the way of some kids running around. “Your tower always sounded dumb to me.”

“It’s not,” Koldo said. “It’s cool and beautiful, but this is…” He trailed off. He didn’t know what to think. He had doubted the stories about Exodus for years, but he had figured there was some truth to them. “Where are we going, anyway?”

Fae laughed, and it changed her whole face. She had dimples. “I guess I can’t just ask someone to take me to their leader.”

Koldo shrugged. “I would if you asked. I mean, if I knew where to go.”

Fae rolled her eyes. “Very helpful, Koldo.”

Koldo was unreasonably pleased that she called him by name.

They eventually circled back to the station. They were planning on taking the same elevator back up the Spire. Koldo was allowing himself to wonder if Fae had actually just wanted to have a fun time in the city when an alarm sounded. Koldo almost panicked, thinking they’d been found out, but no one around them was reacting strongly. If anything, they looked mildly annoyed. The street vendors started packing away their food.

Koldo approached a woman selling the rolls they had earlier. “Hi,” he said, “we’re not from around here. What’s going on?”

“You’re from an outlier town?” she said. “Lucky. All that sunlight! It’s an off hour. The Spire must have used up too much today.” She said “Spire” with clear contempt. “You better head home before they turn the lights out.”

“Turn the lights—?” Koldo started to ask more before Fae pulled him away.

“That sounds bad,” she said, “let’s get going.”

They quickly realized, when they entered the station, that they did not remember which elevator they came from. Fae pulled Koldo over to a board with writing on it. “This should say,” she said. “Tell us where to go!”

Koldo squinted up at it, but the letters jumbled like they always did when he was under pressure.

“Doesn’t it say?” she said. “Hurry up.”

“I don’t know what it says, okay?” Koldo said. “Let’s just go this way.” He pulled her to the nearest elevator bank.

“Are you serious? Do you know anything about this place?”

“Apparently not.” Koldo pushed the button to call the elevator. When they got inside, Koldo pressed the top floor’s button and hoped that was the hangar. Thankfully, it worked.

But when they tried to call the elevator up to the Spire, nothing happened.

“It’s locked?” Koldo said.

Fae groaned. “What is wrong with this place?” She kicked the elevator button.

“Oh, no,” Koldo said, hearing a familiar whooshing sound. “Someone’s coming down.” He dragged her behind a tapestry on the far wall of the room.

They were pressed side by side, backs against the wall, faces turned sideways, nose to nose. Koldo was suddenly very aware of how much he had been sweating throughout the day.

“Where are we taking her, Father?” Koldo heard Chinara’s voice and startled. Fae gave him a stern look to not give them away.

“To Exodus,” Koldo’s father said. “Our research facility is better suited for her than the Spire.”

“Is Satellite so used to imprisoning people that they have a place just for it?” Adora said.

Koldo and Fae looked at each other with wide eyes.

“Chinara told us the deal was made clear to Etheria,” Koldo’s father said. “And yes, of course we do.”

“I don’t remember anybody bringing up prison,” Adora said drily.

“Chinara,” Benat said, “would you stop dawdling and call the elevator for the station?”

“Oh, yes, Father,” she said.

“I don’t know what your people hope to accomplish,” Benat said. “The amount of magic in that vial is worthless as fuel. And if it were consumed by anyone other than She-Ra? Someone without previous exposure to magic?” He laughed.

“What are you talking about?” Adora said sharply.

“So someone else did take it,” Benat said.

The elevator dinged. “After you, She-Ra,” Benat said.

When he heard the elevator leave, Koldo flung the tapestry away from them. “Shit,” he said. “We should have done something. We could have…”

“What are they gunna do?” Fae asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Was your sister helping them?”

“I don’t know.”

“Is your dad like a bad guy?” Fae said.

“I don’t know anything!” Koldo yelled.

“Okay, okay, got it.” Fae swung her arms back and forth, a gesture Koldo was starting to realize she did when she was nervous. She let out a big breath. “Think! Think!” she said, smacking the flat of her hand to her forehead.

“You should have tried that before you snuck out of the ship.” Catra was at the doorway from the hangar, stalking over to Fae with alarming purpose.

Fae jumped and spun around, hand on her hip. “Would you stop treating me like a little kid?”

Catra was approaching Fae with a gleam in her eye Koldo didn’t like, so Koldo stood in front of Fae. “Don’t!”

Catra groaned. “So dramatic. I’m not going to hurt her.”

Fae pushed Koldo out of the way. “I’m not scared of her.”

“Now that’s your first mistake,” Catra said.

Bow followed her into the elevator bank, out of breath. “Catra, did you have to run the whole way?” He saw Fae and Koldo and sighed in relief. “That was dangerous! You guys could have gotten caught.”

Koldo and Fae looked at each other. They needed to tell them.

“What?” Catra said. “You were gone for half an hour and you already got caught? Are you sure you’re from the Horde, pipsqueak?”

“Me and Koldo were completely fine,” Fae said, almost shaking in anger. “Your girlfriend, on the other hand, apparently couldn’t deal!”

Catra’s blue and gold eyes went wide, and then narrowed. “What are you talking about?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Fae said.

“Fae, we need to—” Koldo started.

Before he could finish, Catra had pulled Fae up by the front of her shirt and thrown her into the wall. Fae kicked her leg, but Catra didn’t even seem to notice. “Tell me what you’re talking about or we see how long it takes the Fright Zone to find a new ‘leader,’” she said.

“We saw Adora and Chinara, okay?” Koldo said. “Let her down already.”

Catra dropped Fae and turned to Koldo. Fae landed upright, although she bent over to catch her breath. When she straightened, she looked more angry than upset. Koldo wondered how she had grown up that so much violence barely registered.

“Saw them where?” Catra ground out.

“Glimmer wasn’t with them?” Bow said.

Koldo swallowed, looking at Catra and Bow, both waiting with wide eyes. “We were right here, behind the tapestry. And Chinara and Adora came down in the elevator. Glimmer wasn’t with them. But they were with…” He looked at Fae. He didn’t want them to know it was his dad. “A Council member. It seemed like Adora was…”

“Was what?” Catra demanded.

“Their prisoner,” Koldo said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter is very OC-centric, but I hope you all still enjoyed- I've been having a lot of fun with Chinara, Koldo, and Fae, but don't worry, the next chapters are right back to main squad. They're right back in the thick of things, huh. Thanks so much for reading! I'm not sure how long this update-every-couple-days pace will last, but hopefully I can keep it up. Your kudos/ comments are my only source of nutrients thank you.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: A brief description of a panic attack in the very first section before any white space.

Catra didn’t sleep much in the two weeks after they defeated Horde Prime. She was bone-deep tired, but her mind whirred at night. She knew they were safe, but when she closed her eyes, she saw Prime’s five crescent eyes, Shadow Weaver unmasking her face at the end, Adora’s eyes drooping shut. During the day Catra was happy. A delirious happiness. She sunk into it. She didn’t care how much of it was real, how much of it would last. She had learned to take what she could get, and she wouldn’t grieve for whatever the future would take away before she had to.

Or so she told herself.

She had talked to Scorpia, finally. Catra had confronted her in the princess room after a meeting. Catra apologized profusely. She told Scorpia how grateful she was that Scorpia had been there for her in the darkest times of her life.

Of course Scorpia had accepted her apologies, had told Catra how proud she was of her, and how happy she was that Catra was there.

What Catra didn’t expect was Scorpia to offer her a job.

“I’m a princess now,” Scorpia was saying, “like actually. My family’s old kingdom is all the area around the Fright Zone. And the Fright Zone is—wow, I’m not sure what we’re gunna do there. There’s a lot of old Horde cadets. I’ve tried to talk to them, but they don’t want to talk to me. They want to talk to you, actually.”

“What?” Catra said.

“Yeah, and so I was thinking,” Scorpia said. “I don’t know what you wanted to do now, but if you ever want to help me, in rebuilding the Fright Zone and working with all the old Horde units, you’d have a place on my advisory board, Wildcat.” She placed a pincer on Catra’s shoulder.

Catra smiled. “Advisory board, eh? You’ve gone all professional.” Catra didn’t believe a word of this. she figured Scorpia was just trying to be nice to her, like always. She would play along with Scorpia’s roundabout way of saying that she thought they could be friends again. It was the least she could do.

Scorpia blushed.

“Thanks, Scorpia,” Catra said. “That’s really, really nice of you.” Catra had no idea what to say. It’s not like anyone actually wanted her near the Fright Zone again.

“You don’t need to answer right now!” Scorpia said. “Think about it. Take as long as you need.”

“I—okay,” Catra said. “I hope I can make things up to you, someday. I really want to, if you want me around.”

Later that evening, Catra found Adora in her bedroom. She was sitting with her feet in the waterfall pool—is that what they were meant for?—and chewing her lip.

“What’s eating _you_?” Catra said.

“What?” Adora said. “Nothing!”

“Your lip is busted, stupid,” Catra said, and considered licking the cut on her lower lip for her, but Adora was turned away from her a little. Catra felt a barrier between them that reminded her of how new everything was.

Catra _hated_ that. Nothing was new between them. She’d known Adora her entire life. There shouldn’t be anything between them. What had she done? Sometimes it hit her again, out of nowhere. What had she done?

For once, Adora seemed too involved with her own thoughts to notice the deterioration of Catra’s.

“I heard you and Scorpia talking!” Adora finally blurted out.

Catra frowned at her. “Yeah?”

“I’m sorry! I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.”

“Adora, whatever, I don’t care.” Catra laughed. “Is this why you’re chewing your lip off?” Catra tried not to get distracted by _that_ again. “Don’t be stupid.”

Adora took her legs out of the water and crossed them in front of her, getting her pants all wet. “I heard her offer you a job.” Her face looked all messed up still, the line between her brows deep like how she got before an evaluation. Or a fight.

“Yeah,” Catra said, still at a loss for what was bothering her. “It was nice of her, but—”

“You should take it, if you want,” Adora said, very fast, looking down at her lap. “If you want it, you should go.”

Adora kept talking after that, but Catra didn’t hear it. Catra was back in Thaymor watching Adora turn into She-Ra and blast through their lines with so much force that Catra felt the ground beneath her feet tremble. That’s what it felt like, Adora leaving, like the ground giving way beneath her.

Catra was vaguely aware of standing up, of her breaths turning ragged, of her vision losing its edges. She knew Adora was still talking, looking concerned now, rising from the floor too, but all Catra could hear was, _You should go. You should go. You should go._

Catra had told her that she would go, if that’s what Adora wanted. Catra knew this was a possibility. That it would be too much for Adora. Why wouldn’t it be? How could Adora forgive everything? But, Catra had hoped despite herself. She didn’t want to leave. She thought it might kill her this time.

She hadn’t made a conscious decision to head for the door, but she must have, because she heard Adora say, “Where are you going? Are you leaving?”

Catra whirled back around, letting the anger in. It was a relief to let it take over. “I’m not the one who leaves!” she screamed.

Adora stared, her eyes distant with shock and filling up with tears. She was like that, all her pain so obvious. And still, Catra didn’t expect it when she ran out of the room.

As soon as Catra couldn’t see her anymore, Catra started to think again. She had hurt Adora. She had screamed at her. She had pretended like things were her fault. What had she done?

Catra considered Koldo and realized she hadn’t been in a fight—a proper fight— in weeks. It was longer than she’d ever gone without landing a real hit on somebody. Most days, her newly peaceful existence was welcome. She was learning to be gentle, learning that vulnerability made more things possible. Other days, she longed to take someone down. She had a talent for destruction. The Horde might have honed this talent, but she was the one who had nurtured it, indulged every opportunity to explore its sharp edges and sharper consequences.

It was hard to let go of something she was so good at. But she was trying. She was trying all the way up until that creepy alien kid said that his sister had betrayed them and taken Adora.

Catra punched him. It was easy, and he fell easy. She didn’t think about how he wasn’t a fighter. She only felt the thrill of a win and a satisfying crack on her knuckles. She crouched next to where Koldo lay sprawled on the floor. His nose was bleeding, and his eyes were teary. Good. She held him in place by the throat. Not hard enough that he couldn’t talk. Just hard enough for him to feel where her claws would cut him if she pressed harder.

“Where did they take her?” Catra said, voice low.

“I don’t know!” Koldo said.

“What is your problem?” Fae yelled, moving over to Catra.

Catra squeezed Koldo’s throat until he choked. “Back off,” she said to Fae.

Catra saw Fae stop in place from the corner of her eye.

“Catra,” Bow said, calm, almost gentle. “Let him go.”

Catra whirled around to see him standing close, arms outstretched like he was ready to catch something. “You heard what he said! They took her! His sister.” She turned back to Koldo. “I know you know where they are. You were planning this from the start, weren’t you?”

Koldo didn’t say anything. He was making pitiful whimpering noises.

“Let him go, now,” Bow said, and something was steely in his voice.

Catra looked around again to see Bow had notched an arrow. It wasn’t aimed at her yet, but she knew he was perfectly capable of trapping her in a net.

“We have to hear him out,” Bow said. “We’ll find Glimmer and Adora. But you can’t hurt him just because you’re scared.”

Catra yelled in frustration, but she released Koldo, let him gasp for air on the floor. _Think_. They had already taken her somewhere. Probably Glimmer, too. They didn’t have time for this. “The tracker pad,” she said. “Check it.”

Bow nodded, swallowed once, and returned his arrows to behind his back. It calmed Catra down, just a tiny bit, to see his nerves. He cared about Adora, too. He would help Catra find her. She wasn’t all alone.

“The marker’s below us, but close by here, actually,” Bow said. “How long ago did you see them?” he asked Fae.

“Why should we help you?” Fae said. “Look what she did to him!” Fae was helping Koldo stand upright.

Catra snarled, but Bow answered faster. “We don’t have time for this!” he said. “Adora and Glimmer are in trouble, and we have to find them, right away. You can be mad at Catra later. When did you see them?”

“Maybe two minutes before you showed up,” Koldo said. His voice was shaky, but he was standing.

“How close?” Catra said, grabbing the tracker pad from Bow’s hands. She saw the little red dot, close to them, but moving further away. “It must be them, if they were just here. They couldn’t have gotten far in that time. We can catch up. Come on.” She pushed the button to call the elevator.

Bow frowned but moved to join her. “Glimmer had the tracker pad.”

“Maybe she gave it to Adora,” Catra said, handing their tracker back to Bow. “Or maybe they took Glimmer to the place first.”

Bow gripped the device hard. “Glimmer was supposed to keep it,” he said, eyes narrowed.

The elevator dinged. “Bow,” Catra said, “we’ll find them.”

“Yeah,” he said. They entered the elevator.

“Wait!” Koldo said.

“What?” Catra snapped, slapping her hand to the elevator doors.

“I’m coming with you,” he said.

“We'll pass,” Catra said. “You’ll slow us down.” She stepped into the elevator to let the doors close, but Koldo stuck his arm out to keep them open.

“I should have done something,” he said. “When I saw them. I didn’t know they were going to betray you, and I know my sister didn’t either. I can help you. You need somebody who knows this place.”

“Okay,” Bow said. “Thanks.”

Catra groaned. “Whatever! We’re going!”

“Come on, Fae,” Koldo said, holding out his hand for her.

“I can’t believe you’re helping them,” Fae said, but joined them in the elevator. She did not take his hand, but he looked happy enough.

“I can’t believe you think we want your help,” Catra said. “But here we are.” She whipped around as the elevator doors closed and they begun their descent.

The downward movement of the elevator was gentle, but Catra could tell they were moving fast. She hated the feeling of falling, the ground dropping out from under her. _Adora_ , she thought, _you idiot_.

* * *

Adora’s foot hurt. When they first brought her into the facility—through a surprisingly crowded station, and through yet another maze of hallways in the station’s lower levels—she had thought they left her without any kind of guards or physical restraints. The room was open. It didn’t even have a door, much less a lock. They hadn’t tied her up or treated her roughly. As soon as Benat and Chinara had left, Adora had smirked. They thought she wouldn’t just… leave? She strode purposefully toward the opening and—stubbed her toe on air.

As Adora hissed and hopped around on one foot, she tried to find what she had hit. But there was nothing there. She reached for the space in front of her, and felt it. An invisible barrier of some kind. Must be magical, she thought. She felt all along the space with her fingertips, but didn’t find any openings or breaks in the barrier. She tried punching it a few times for good measure, and then she tried throwing a stool at it. Everything bounced right off the barrier, eerily making no sound as it came in contact with it. Adora groaned in frustration and thought for the millionth time that she should just transform and get them all out of here. But she had said she wouldn’t. So she wouldn’t. For now.

So much for Chinara sticking around to keep an eye on her. Adora didn’t know what to think of her, except that her surprise about her mother’s deceit seemed genuine.

She took in her surroundings. The room was clearly a scientific lab of some kind. It looked well-used. In fact, as she walked around the room, inspecting the microscopes and trays of specimens, she saw a cup of some kind of drink left out like someone had left in the middle of something. There was a cooling container that held things that looked like experiments and other things she was pretty sure were food.

She was just opening up one of the containers, voicing her disgust at the smell, when someone said, “I wouldn’t eat that if I were you.”

Adora dropped the container, spilling its sulfurous contents all over the floor. “Sorry!” she said, looking up at whoever had spoken. He had deep wrinkles and his skin was a greener hue than the others she had meet here. He wore simple clothes, trimmed and utilitarian shirt and pants.

“I mean, actually I’m not sorry.” Adora crossed her arms. “It’s what you get for kidnapping people.”

He straightened the stool Adora had left tipped over and sat on it. He looked at the yellowish contents on the floor. “Some experiments are destined to fail.”

“Who are you?”

“I’m an Elder of Zilharr, one of the last. I’m here to determine if you can help us regain our home.”

Adora stepped over the mess she had spilled and stood in front of him. “That’s what we came here to do in the first place. We’re trying to help you.”

“Yet you didn’t take the vial,” the Elder said.

Adora said nothing.

“But your magic is powerful,” he said. “We were monitoring you in the Council Room. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Uh, thanks,” Adora said.

“We’ve been experimenting,” he said, “with the only magic we have left. I have been trying for the last fifty years to isolate the component corrupting our magic. I have believed all this time that it was possible to purify it, and yet, time and again, every experiment I’ve run has failed.” He crossed his hands in front of him. “I’ve been forced to accept the fact that there is only one variable I’ve never been able to control for. Myself.”

Adora frowned.

“It’s a scientist’s greatest obstacle,” the Elder explained. “We try to control for every variable possible, remove every contaminant, and yet there’s one we can never eliminate. Our very interaction with our experiment is its own variable, and yet it’s the only way.”

He met Adora’s eyes. “They told you that we’re corrupted? All of us?”

She nodded.

“The rest of the universe has been avoiding us. They fear the nature of our magical corruption. It’s hard to blame them. I didn’t see a way out of my problem, without any non-corrupted being willing to help us. Until you.”

“Then let me go!” Adora said. “I’ll help you. I want to help you. Let Chinara take us to the source.”

“And do what? You don’t have the magic necessary to reignite the source.” He narrowed his eyes at her when she didn’t respond. “This is why you’re here.” He rose from his seat and approached a large metal container. Before he opened it, he took a heavy-looking garment and fixed it around his neck. It hung, covering his chest, like a bizarre bib. Then he opened the door and pulled out one of its many shelves. Inside was a clear container, slightly bigger than his fist. He set the container on the lab bench next to Adora.

Inside the container was a white-purple crystal shard. Its edges looked sharp as knives, and yet it seemed fragile. Adora thought it would shatter, if she squeezed it, into a dozen smaller versions of itself.

“Our magic,” the elder said. “We have so little of it left. We take and parse every bit of it. I’ve been experimenting with fragments of this same shard for a decade now. We need it, corrupted as it is.”

Adora felt drawn to the shard of magic. It didn’t look corrupted, or any of the things they were saying. It looked bright, full of energy and life. She reached a fingertip to touch the box containing it and the shard shone so bright it was almost hard to look at it straight ahead, but she did anyway.

“I knew it,” the Elder breathed beside her. He took the box, sliding it out from Adora’s fingertips, but he left it on the workbench, still within Adora’s reach.

Its blinding light went out and it returned to its normal white-purple color. Adora could still see the after-image of the shard’s light on her eyelids as she blinked.

“We will need to run more tests,” the Elder said, “but I believe we have a solution after all.”

He left Adora alone in the room. She stared at the shard, and she could swear, even if all the lights were to go out right then, she would know exactly where it was.

* * *

Catra, Bow, Fae, and Koldo were still in the main atrium of the station when all the lights shut off.

“Oh, yeah,” Koldo said, remembering.

“Your stupid spaceship turns all of its lights out?” Catra hissed. “As a normal thing?”

“Exodus does,” Fae said. “They said the Spire used too much today.”

“Whatever,” Catra said. “Come on, Bow, it’s this way still, right?” Her eyes had adjusted enough to the low light to make out the door on the far side they were moving toward.

“Uh, Catra?” he said. “Where are you?” He was reaching out blindly.

She snorted. “Is your vision _that_ bad?” She looked at Fae who was scowling into the darkness as if it were an enemy, and Koldo, who was sliding forward, one foot at a time. “I didn’t think you guys could look any dumber, but man was I wrong.” She laughed, high-pitched.

“Catra, we can’t see a thing,” Bow said. “You’re going to have to lead us.” He held his hand out for her.

That sobered her up quickly. “You want me to hold your hand?” she said in utmost disgust.

“This is not the time for your intimacy issues!” Bow said.

“Fine!” Catra snatched Bow’s hand hard and yanked him forward.

“Wait!” Bow said. “You have to take someone else’s hand, too. I need my other one for the tracker pad.”

“Absolutely not,” Catra said. “I’ll take the tracker pad.”

“You know you can’t read it as well as me,” Bow said.

“Stop being such a _baby_.” Fae reached out her hand in Catra’s general direction. “Just shut up and take my hand.”

“Whatever! I don’t know how any of you have survived this long.” Catra grabbed Fae with her other hand, letting her claws poke her. Just a little.

“Ow!” Fae said. “Really?””

“Your pain tolerance that low?” Catra said.

“I can’t _believe_ I ever thought you were cool,” Fae said. “Come on, Koldo,” she said, presumably grabbing his hand, too.

Catra dragged them through the atrium behind her, muttering under her breath, in disbelief that she was reduced to this. “Okay, map genius,” Catra said to Bow once they entered the hallway. “Where to?”

“To the right,” he said.

Catra led them to a small hallway. “Watch out,” she said, when she saw they had to a few steps up.

“For what?” Fae demanded. Both she and Bow stumbled on the steps but at least didn’t fall down on their faces.

“Come on,” Catra said. “I can’t keep slowing down. Can you people see yet? It’s brighter in here.” There were some kind of dim lights at the floor every so often.

“I can’t even see Fae and she’s right in front of me,” Koldo said.

Catra said nothing, just sped up.

“Okay, stop!” Bow said. “On your left, is there an elevator?”

“Nothing,” Catra said.

Bow hit some buttons on the tracker pad. “But where’s the entrance?” he said to himself.

“Koldo?” Fae said, when he pulled her and then all of them further to the side of the hallway.

“What do you think you’re—?” Catra started.

“Found it!” Koldo said.

Catra heard the now familiar whoosh of an elevator. “What?” she yelped. “There is nothing there, what did you… ?” She trailed off, seeing the artwork Koldo had pressed. “Your elevator buttons are paintings here?” she said. “What is wrong with this place?”

“It’s aesthetic!” Koldo said, defensive.

The elevator doors opened, bathing them in soft light. Catra hissed at the sudden brightness and covered her eyes with her hands.

“Come on,” Bow pulled her in the elevator.

Catra realized she was still holding both Bow and Fae’s hands and flung them away from her. “Finally!” She turned to Bow. “Okay, what next?”

“The signal has barely moved in the last few minutes,” Bow said. “It’s close. A few rooms away. Three? Maybe.”

The doors opened to three guards, all with black masks covering their entire faces.

“Who are—?” one of the guards said. “Koldo?” he said sharply. “What are you doing down here?”

“Master?” Koldo said, eyes going wide. “I’m—um—giving my friends a tour.”

“A tour?” one of the other guards said.

“Your _friends_?” the last one said, even more skeptical.

“We don’t have time for this,” Catra said.

She pounced on the guard who had first spoken, pushing him onto the ground. Catra was vaguely aware of Bow pulling an arrow and Fae moving into a fighting stance beside her. The guard beneath Catra was reaching for some kind of weapon at his belt, but Catra was faster. She flung it away, and secured his hands in one of hers. She pressed her knee to his sternum.

“Is she down here?” she said.

“Who?” he said. The word seeming disembodied since all she could see was the mask.

“Too cowardly to show your face?” Catra ripped off his mask.

“Hey!” he said writhing beneath her. He had that green tint to his skin that Koldo had, but his eyes were completely different. Small and beady. His skull markings were dull, like they’d been sitting in the sun for too long.

“Koldo,” he said, “you’ve never been very smart, but I never expected you to do something this stupid.”

“Master,” Koldo said, “there’s a lot to explain.”

Fae approached, one of the other guard’s weapons in her hand. The other two guards were held in netting. Fae wasn’t totally useless, at least.

“Tell us where you have the prisoner,” Fae said, “or we’ll see how you like it.” She held the end of the weapon to his temple.

He caved immediately. “They brought a girl with strange hair to the lab. Down the hall.” He jerked his head to indicate the one branching off to their left.

Catra dropped him.

“You think that means Adora?” Bow said.

Catra huffed and turned to the guard again. “Blonde hair tied back? Big stupid poof?” She held a hand above her head to mime it.

The guard nodded.

“Yeah, that’s her,” Bow said, and tied the guards’ hands behind him, dragging him over next to the others.

“Fae,” Koldo said, shocked. “You were going to shock him?”

“Shock him?” she said. “Huh. I thought it was a gun.”

Koldo’s eyes went wide.

Bow shook his head. “Horde kids.” He handed Catra one of the other guard’s tasers and kept one for himself.

“Was he a friend of yours or something?” Fae said.

“No, he’s horrible. He’s my tutor,” Koldo said, as if that explained everything.

Catra and Fae both nodded like it did. Catra held the stun gun out to Koldo. “You can still zap him if you want.”

Koldo shook his head emphatically.

“Your tutor is a guard too?” Catra said, lifting an eyebrow.

“Only a very limited number of people can enter the Spire at all,” Koldo said. “They have to be experts in many things.”

“Ha!” Catra turned to Koldo’s tutor. “You’re definitely demoted.” She turned the taser over in her hand. “How do you use this anyway?” Catra said to Fae.

Fae showed her a lever on the side. “Safety,” she said.

Catra nodded. “Not bad, pipsqueak.”

“I’m not even that short!” Fae said.

“All right,” Catra said, mood much improved from the violence and threats. “Let’s see if anyone else wants to try and stop us.”

* * *

Glimmer had tried to lose her escorts—more like _guards_ , she thought sourly—before they reached the entrance to the ship at the storage hull, but they would not leave. They insisted they would take her all the way.

So, as they lowered the bay doors, Glimmer said, as loud as possible, “Thanks so much! I really appreciate it. I’ll be waiting for the pilot!” to warn Bow and Catra before they were seen.

At first, Glimmer thought it had worked. As soon as the guards finally left, she searched the rest of the hull for Bow, Catra, Koldo, and Fae, but nothing. All she found was a claw-marked pillow.

She started to panic when she got upstairs, and still nothing. She went into her and Bow’s room, fully expecting a note, but still nothing. “Bow,” she whispered furious, “what are you _doing_?”

She was pacing the control room, trying to decide what to do, when she noticed a light flashing on one of the panels. She held her hand over it, hesitating, when a voice said, “Communication received. Would you like to hear it?”

“Yes!” Glimmer said.

“Koldo.” It was Chinara’s voice, whispering as if worried about being heard. “They took Adora. They didn’t buy it, and Mom wasn’t happy she didn’t take the vial. They don’t know about Catra. We’re in a facility right below the Spire. It’s underneath the Exodus station. They’re sending Glimmer back to you, but I have their navigation device. They should be able to track us with the other. They… Koldo they’ve been using the magic. The corrupted magic. I think we should help them get away, take Catra to the source anyway. Mom’s wrong. We can still save Zilharr.” She paused for a moment. “Koldo, I’m sorry for getting you into this. And—I’m sorry for what I said. When I found out you snuck that girl in. I hope you’ll help me anyway.”

The recording shut off. Glimmer released a breath. At least Chinara did want to help them. Maybe Bow and Catra heard the recording and went after Adora, or maybe they were captured, too. Either way, at least Glimmer had a location, now. Even if she didn’t know how to get there. She really, really wished she could teleport right now, but it was okay. Bow was strong without magic. She could be, too.

She also hoped she found Bow and Catra before they got to Chinara. Glimmer knew, from like, a lot of experience, just how badly Catra would react to a betrayal. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you thought I forgot about that angst tag.... uh... I haven't. These sweet idiots have some unresolved angst, y'all. Thanks so much for reading!


	9. Chapter 9

Two weeks after they stopped Horde Prime, Adora thought she had figured it out. The problem between her and Catra. She had always thought of it as “the problem.” It was vague enough to encompass whatever it was, and it implied that it could be fixed. Reversed, even. Something common, something that didn’t need to end in battles. Or broken hearts.

When Adora heard Scorpia offer Catra the job to join her advisory board, Catra sounded flattered, and hopeful. And Scorpia was right—Catra would be great at that job. She could really help everyone left in the Fright Zone. Adora had never asked Catra if she wanted to go back to Bright Moon, after everything. She had just assumed Catra would come with her.

But that was _the_ problem, wasn’t it? That was exactly what Adora had done wrong. Assumed Catra would follow her. Kept Catra from making her own decisions. Maybe Catra thought Adora didn’t trust her, was keeping her in Bright Moon to watch her. Maybe Catra thought that they wouldn’t allow her to return to the Fright Zone, that she’d be relegated to powerless positions for the rest of her life.

Maybe Adora was holding Catra back. Maybe she always had been.

Adora didn’t know exactly what happened when Catra yelled, after Adora tried to talk to her in their bedroom. Adora thought the problem was fixed, but Catra looked like she had lost everything.

And it had all risen right back up for Adora, the fear and pain of three years. Catra had only been back for a week. Everything could fall apart again.

Adora had never been the one to run when they had an argument. She always stood her ground, heard Catra out, waited for both of their anger to pass. But Adora was too afraid, now. She always said the wrong thing. She always made it worse. She couldn’t bear to mess it up this time.

A few hours later, Adora found Catra on one of the highest balconies of the palace, of course. She was sitting on the railing with her knees folded into her chest. Even for her, it was an impressive show of balance. Adora was so relieved she was still there that she actually laughed. It sounded unhinged, too, since she was still teary.

Catra turned at the sound. She dropped off the railing, almost looking clumsy. “Adora?”

Adora wiped her eyes. “Hey.” She got closer to Catra. “I’m sorry. For running away.”

“It’s okay,” Catra said. Her eyes were bright and soft. Adora was still amazed at how open her face looked without the mask. “Adora.” She was closing and opening her fists at her sides. “Everything has been… really intense. I know that. I don’t hold you to anything, that we said.” She scrunched her whole face up for a moment, and under almost any other circumstances Adora would have found it cute. “But I meant it. That I would go, if you want me to go.” She paused and spun around to face out toward the mountains.

“For you to _go_?” Adora said. “That’s not what I meant.” Adora reached her hands out toward Catra, but Catra couldn’t see her, and Adora dropped them. “What do you mean, hold me to anything? Do you want to leave?” The words came out low, unsteady.

Catra turned around. Her face was brittle.

“We can fix it,” Adora said, suddenly terrified of how Catra would respond. “Whatever it is, we can fix it.”

“It can’t be _fixed_ , Adora,” Catra said.

Adora liked to think her heart was a strong organ, but it was just tissue, wasn’t it? She could feel it beating now, flimsy and sluggish. It could fall apart like anything else.

Adora watched the shard as if it needed watching. As if it watched her back. It bothered her, the shard, like a problem she hadn’t solved. Like finding the sword in the Whispering Woods. Adora felt a connection to this magic, an energy not unlike the energy of She-Ra. The shard seemed to shift by the minute. At one moment, she would swear it glowed. The next, it appeared dull, its purplish tint sickly. The more she watched it, the less she understood the feeling it gave her. She felt that way about She-Ra, sometimes. She wielded her magic like she did most things—with intuition and brute force. It would be nice if she could know more. About the magic, and She-Ra. And herself. What had Chinara said? That she was a scholar of magic? If only.

Chinara. Chinara had left her. She said she would stay near Adora and ensure her safety, but Adora hadn’t seen her since they brought her here. Chinara had probably decided to cut her losses. Why would she turn against everything she knew, just to help her? Catra was right about her all along. They never should have trusted any of the Zilharrans.

Did Catra know where she was by now? She would be worried. Maybe she and Bow and Glimmer were already coming to get her. Adora knew they’d come to get her. They always would.

Adora shook herself, drew away from the shard for the first time in—she didn’t know. She had no sense of time here, no way to know how long she had been sitting and staring at the shard. She needed to find a way out of here. She was good at plans. She walked to the open doorway again, but of course the barrier was as strong as ever. How had the Elder left through it? Adora hadn’t even thought to watch him leave. She could have learned how the mechanism worked. She had watched the shard, instead. It was unlike her to miss such an opportunity. The thought nagged at her. She didn’t like not being like herself. She didn’t like being out of control. She needed to get out here and find her friends. No more looking at the dumb shard.

She searched the lab for tools and weapons. For anything useful at all. She found a knife, eventually, but it was tiny and clearly made for cutting even tinier things. It was hardly Adora’s style, used to a massive sword as she was, but she figured it was better than nothing.

As she searched, a plan formed. She needed to get someone’s attention, first, so they would enter the room. All she needed was someone to disarm the barrier, and then she could fight. She was confident she could beat these Zilharran guards, She-Ra or no She-Ra. She would yell until someone came, she supposed. Maybe she should yell for Chinara. Everything would be so much better if Chinara was still on their side. They needed someone who knew Zilharr. How would they ever manage to make it to the source without her? They knew nothing of the planet, nothing of the magic there.

Adora’s eyes found the shard again. What if this was her chance? To find out more about the magic of Zilharr? She needed to know everything she could. None of them knew how it would affect Catra. They didn’t know what “reigniting the source” even meant. Adora’s heart clenched at the memory of Benat laughing at the idea of someone else taking the vial. What had that meant? How could she fix this if she didn’t even know what the problem was? Why had Catra done it? What if Adora couldn’t save her, this time?

Adora had never been able to walk away from a problem.

She sat before the shard. It looked bright again. She felt awake, felt her blood thrumming through her fingertips, even just from being close to it like this. She stretched her hand out toward the shard and it shone brighter.

What if no one helped them? What if they were all alone? She opened the case to the shard.

* * *

Catra was leading the group down the hall, following Bow’s directions, when she heard them. At least a dozen soldiers exiting the same elevator bank they had left minutes ago.

Catra froze, staring at the opening at the end of the hallway where Adora should be. It was too many of them to fight. She yelled in anger and yanked Bow into a tiny room on her left. “Idiots,” she hissed to Fae and Koldo, “get in here.”

Fae pulled Koldo in just as the first of the guards rounded the corner. They slid in and Catra closed the door behind them. The four of them just barely fit. It was a room for some sort of machinery, which Catra soon found was hot to the touch. She motioned to Bow and the others to watch out, and so they were all pressed against one another and the door.

The guards were clomping down the hall when Catra heard one of them say, “She said to come down here? Down to Exodus?” in seeming disbelief.

“That’s what they said,” another replied.

The group of them stopped in the hallway not five feet away from Catra, when they heard another voice. Catra judged, by his tone, that he was their commanding officer.

“What are you doing here?” he barked.

“Orders from High Council, sir,” one of them replied.

“High Council?” he said, the same tone of disbelief. There was a beeping sound, and he said, “Hello?” He paused. “I see. I’ll let them know.”

“Sir?”

“Back upstairs. You’re to rendezvous with High Council in the Station.”

Silence.

“What are you waiting for?” the same commanding voice asked.

“Sir, High Council… herself?” he asked.

“Are you going to keep making me repeat myself or are you going to follow orders?”

The guard seemed to rally, because he said immediately, “Of course, sir.” The guards left the way they came.

Catra pressed her ear further into the door while she and Bow exchanged matching expressions of relief. Catra was trying to determine if the commander was still outside in the hallway. She decided it didn’t matter. Might be a better move to get him out of the way now, anyway. She reached for the doorknob, but Koldo grabbed her forearm to stop her. She glared at him, moving to throw off his hand, but just then they heard the commander back on the move, saying, “Yes. They’re on their way.”

Catra opened the door and the four of them spilled out. “What was that?” she hissed to Koldo, but he wasn’t paying attention. His face was all scrunched up like he was in pain.

“Actually, I don’t care,” Catra whispered. “Bow? Still this way?” She continued on the way they were going before, expecting the others to follow.

“Yeah,” Bow whispered back. “The tracker pad’s right ahead. Through that doorway to the left.” He put the tracker pad away and notched an arrow.

The four of them were nearly to the doorway. Catra and Bow nodded once at each other and turned the corner.

It was a small room. An office. There was only one desk, a chair. A large screen on the wall. No Adora.

Catra let the bitter disappointment fall through her and give way to an even more bitter rage. Chinara was behind the desk. A man was standing behind her, both of them looking at the screen on the wall even though all it showed was an empty chair, a planet visible behind it.

“Guess you didn’t listen,” Catra said. “When I told you what would happen if you turned on us. You really should pay better attention next time.” She let her claws out and laughed, low in her throat. “Just kidding. There won’t be a next time.” She jumped on top of the desk.

“Catra!” Bow yelled.

“Wait!” Koldo yelled, rushing over to join his sister on the other side of the desk. Both she and the older man had backed up into the wall behind them.

“Koldo?” the man said in shock.

“She didn’t betray you,” Koldo said to Catra. “I know she wouldn’t.”

Catra heaved a breath. “You better start talking,” she said to Chinara.

Chinara, eyes wide, was looking back and forth between Catra and the man next to her. She licked her lips. “Father,” she began slowly.

“Father?” Bow said.

The screen on the wall flipped to a new scene. “Benat,” a woman began. “I met with the guards, but—" All of them swiveled to stare at the screen, only to see—

“Glimmer!” Bow yelled.

A woman dressed all in red was at the front of the image on the wall. Glimmer, held by several guards, was in the background of the frame. They were in what Catra recognized as the atrium that they had crossed earlier. They must have gotten the lights back on, as it was bright there now, though still empty.

“Benat,” the woman said in a much sharper tone, “what’s going on?”

“Bow!” Glimmer yelled from the background. “Catra! Chinara helped us! She’s okay. She knows where Adora—” A guard slapped a hand over her mouth, cutting off the end of Glimmer’s sentence.

The woman turned to the guard. “Are you incapable of restraining even one small—” Glimmer was putting up a fight now, and the woman started saying something else, sighed, and the screen went dark.

Catra stared at the Zilharrans from her perch on the table. She leapt off and pointed a finger in Chinara’s face. “Start talking.”

“Chinara,” the man—Benat, the lady had called him, said, “what are the Etherians talking about? What did she mean you helped them?”

“Father,” she started, eyes darting fast between Catra and her father as if trying to determine who was the bigger threat.

Koldo approached his father. “Hey Dad,” he said, “I’m really, really sorry.”

“For what, Son?” Benat said in a terribly cold tone, watching Koldo raise his hands.

Koldo, quicker than Catra would have believed he was capable of, snatched the stun gun hanging from his father’s belt, found the safety, and zapped him with it. Koldo caught him before he collapsed on the floor and laid him down gently.

When he straightened up, everyone else in the room was staring at him, open-mouthed.

“What?” he said.

“That was almost… cool,” Fae said.

“I thought so,” Koldo said. That was, however, the last of his bravado. He dropped the stun gun on the desk and eyed it like it might bite him.

Catra was already turning to Chinara, but before she could say anything more Chinara met her eyes, a resolve there Catra hadn’t seen before.

“I can take you to her,” Chinara said. “I know where they have Adora.”

* * *

Glimmer sagged against the guards. There were far too many of them to fight now. She’d have to wait for the others to find her. But they were all right, and they had found Chinara.

Glimmer had been stumbling through the dark of the station several minutes ago, nearly in tears with frustration—what kind of stupid spaceship turns all the lights off?—when the power returned. She, didn’t, however, have time to enjoy it. Before her eyes had even adjusted, Izar, trailed by three guards, exited an elevator and entered the atrium.

There had been a short scuffle. Glimmer was proud to have kicked one of the masked guards hard enough for him to cry out in pain, but they had secured her hands behind her soon after that.

“You people are unpredictable,” Izar said, “I’ll admit that.” She had some kind of communication device in her hands. She spoke into it. “Send them up the station.” She lowered it, considering Glimmer. She was somehow even more intimidating here. In the Council Room, Glimmer had the feeling that Izar was purposefully holding back her emotions for the rest of the Council members. She had been controlled, there, even the smallest gestures deliberate.

Izar began pacing now, though, walking quickly, mumbling under her breath and gesturing emphatically with her hands.

“You’ll never keep Adora,” Glimmer said. “I don’t know what you were thinking. You knew we beat Horde Prime. You’re nothing compared to that.”

Izar glared at her. “And yet, no sign of She-Ra.”

Glimmer smirked. “Just because Adora’s too nice to hurt all of you.” She shrugged. “She will though, when she realizes she needs to. It’s just a matter of time.”

Izar paused her pacing and raised her eyebrows at Glimmer. The atrium’s lighting was harsh and yellowish. Where before, the red of Izar’s clothing and the markings on her skull had seemed regal and rich, here they were garish. Glimmer noticed the dark circles under her eyes, the lines around her mouth. Glimmer was more afraid of her than she’d ever been.

“You’re arrogant,” Izar said. “Too arrogant to understand that we already have control of She-Ra. She’s already been exposed to the corruption. It was as we thought. Her magic makes her strong enough to use ours, even corrupted. Of course, it also makes her particularly susceptible to its… effects.”

“What does that mean?” Glimmer said sharply.

“You were so foolish to deceive us,” Izar said. “All this could have been avoided. And now, well I doubt She-Ra will ever trust you again. You have lost your people’s greatest resource. The universe wants to believe they are so much better than us, but see? You are just as foolish, and as foolhardy with the wellbeing of your supposed friends, as we were, long ago. Sometimes I think the corruption has reached every corner of the universe already.”

Glimmer felt her eyes fill with tears. Izar was right. She shouldn’t have led them here. She shouldn’t have left Adora. She shouldn’t—

Izar was turned away from her, talking into her device. She held the tech in such a way that Glimmer could just make out the screen and see—Catra! And Bow, there behind her!

Glimmer yelled as much as she could to them before the guards wrapped a piece of cloth around her mouth. She fought them until their reinforcements arrived.

Izar checked the bindings holding Glimmer’s hands behind her back herself. “How does it feel,” she asked, and Glimmer couldn’t decide whether the words were taunting or sincere, “to lose everything?”

* * *

Once the shard was in her hands, Adora knew it was the only thing in the universe that was really hers. The shard felt as smooth and perfect as she had imagined it would feel. It helped her to focus. Her eyes seemed sharper, her hearing more sensitive. She was hyper-aware of everything. She longed for a battle. She wouldn’t even need She-Ra. She felt she could take an entire squad of soldiers herself, and half-hoped one would come to fight her now. She had never felt anything like it before. When she transformed into She-Ra, she knew she was connecting to something apart from herself. As if she were borrowing power. But with the shard, she was fully herself, only sharper.

She had always needed a purpose. She knew she had just been planning how to escape this lab and find her friends. But once the shard was in her hands, her purpose shifted. Her thoughts had been clouded before by fear and hesitancy. Now she saw everything with new, clearer eyes.

She understood the Zilharrans now. Of course they continued to use this magic. It wasn’t corrupted. It was simply honest. And honesty was harsh, and messy. But it was necessary. And Adora had to face it.

Her friends had betrayed her. Glimmer had left her. The others were not coming to save her. They must have made a trade with the Zilharrans. Leave She-Ra with them. In exchange they could return to Etheria safely.

Adora didn’t know why the realization upset her. She remembered how many times Glimmer had used her. She remembered each time Catra had betrayed her, and fought her, and hurt her. It was clear to Adora now that they had all been lying to her and using her for the power of She-Ra. She had been so stupid. 

The Elder returned after a time. Adora had little idea whether she had been sitting with the shard for minutes or hours.

“I see you decided to touch it,” the Elder said, sitting next to her.

“It’s helping me think,” Adora said.

“What are you thinking about?” the Elder asked.

“Why do you ask?” Adora snapped.

The Elder just chuckled. “You’re thinking about your friends, are you not? You’re thinking that you hate them.”

Adora frowned. “I don’t hate them.”

“You don’t?” the Elder sounded genuinely shocked.

“No,” she whispered. “I don’t hate them, but they hate me.”

The Elder shook his head, slowly back and forth. “Amazing,” he whispered. “Amazing, Adora.” He let out a big breath. “I have studied this magic for all my life. One of the things I’ve discovered is how long it takes this magic to decay. You know what I discovered? It will never decay, not all the way. It deteriorates slowly, though exponentially, meaning it will forever approach non-existence, and never reach it, either. Do you know what else that means? No matter what we do, this magic will always be a part of us Zilharrans. Long after we die, our bodies turned to dust, the corrupted magic will still be there. It will be less, and less, until finally it will be difficult to measure, but it will never be entirely gone.”

“I believed,” he continued, “that this was an immutable law. It was the bedrock of my research.” He snorted. “I know you don’t care, but I’ll be back soon,” he said. “You…” he trailed off. “I shouldn’t say this. It’s bad science. But, I don’t think your friends hate you.”

Adora heard the stool scrape as he dragged it back from the bench.

For the first time, Adora looked up at him. “What do you know?”

He smiled. “Not much, it turns out.” He turned and left without another word.

Adora ran her thumb along the sharp edge of the shard. Her purpose was clear now. She had spent her entire life trying to protect and love those who cared nothing for her. He was wrong, she knew the truth now. Shadow Weaver, Catra, the Princess Alliance, Etheria itself. They had all hurt her. Even her own planet, in the end, had tried to kill her. And she had been so willing to die for any of them. No more. This time, she would save herself.

* * *

They had decided. Catra and Chinara would find Adora. The others would find Glimmer, and return to the ship. They would need to refuel and stock supplies as quickly as possible. Catra would say it was a terrible plan, but it was actually less dumb than most of the plans she had heard since teaming up with the princesses.

“Our only chance is leaving before they fully mobilize,” Chinara said. “If we can leave before they do, I believe they won’t follow us to Zilharr. They won’t land on the surface without a specialized team and supplies, and I believe they’ll assume us dead if we do without one.”

“Aren’t you a ray of sunshine?” Fae said.

Chinara shrugged. “It is the truth.”

Bow turned to Koldo. “You know how to refuel? And where the supplies are?”

Koldo nodded. “I’ve never done it myself before, but I know how. I can do it.”

“Okay.” Bow said. He squeezed Catra into a hug. “Be careful.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Catra said. “Tell Sparkles she lost the bet.”

“What bet?” Bow said.

“She’ll know.”

“Koldo,” Chinara said, “be careful. And… thank you. So much.”

Koldo pulled his sister in for a hug.

Chinara froze. “What are you doing?”

“It’s a hug!” Koldo said. “They do it all the time!”

Chinara swallowed and pat his back awkwardly. “Am I doing it right?”

“No,” Catra said. “You look really weird. So, normal for you. Now, go you guys. You have to hurry.” She forcibly pushed Bow into the hallway. “We’ll be fine. I’ll find her. We’ll meet you at the ship. Try not to die,” she said to Fae.

“Really?” Fae said.

“Go!” Catra made a shooing motion, and Bow, Koldo and Fae jogged away.

“Okay,” Catra said, turning back to Chinara. “So where’s your magic key?”

“It’s not a key, it’s a device, and it’s hardly _my_ magic—” Chinara gulped at the look on Catra’s face. She sighed. “Follow me.”

Chinara had told them that they were holding Adora in a lab. A magical barrier locked Adora inside. Chinara said that she had watched one of their Elders use the device when they first brought Adora down. 

“So we find him, beat him up, steal the device?” Catra had said.

Chinara nodded. “That’s what I was thinking.”

“Wow, I don’t completely hate you right now,” Catra said.

“I suppose I can die comforted by that thought,” Chinara said dryly.

Catra had burst into laughter, surprising even herself.

Now they were on their way to the lab where they had left Adora. It seemed to Catra to be taking forever to wind their way through the maze of rooms and hallways, but she knew it had only been a handful of minutes. She was nearly running, badgering Chinara to go faster. Chinara had been checking every turn to see if anyone was there, but Catra told her they didn’t have time for that.

Of course, then they ran right into someone turning a corner.

“Elder!” Chinara said.

Catra pushed him against the wall. He was much less intimidating than the other Zilharrans she had met. Maybe it was his simple style of clothing, or maybe it was his face, which was both weathered and gentle. Not that this mattered to Catra. “Give me the key to the lab,” she said.

“The device—” Chinara said.

The Elder was staring at Catra in shock. “Give me,” Catra said through clenched teeth, “whatever opens the lab where you are keeping Adora.”

He reached into his pocket and handed her a small… it did look more like a technological device than a key, not that she would admit that to Chinara.

“Chinara,” the Elder said, “what are you doing?”

“This is wrong,” Chinara said to him. “It’s not right to keep Adora. And Mom is wrong anyway. We can still save Zilharr.”

The Elder frowned. “I never—”

“How do you use this?” Catra demanded, holding up the device.

He hesitated, and Catra pushed him up the wall by his collar.

“I’m thinking!” he said.

“Think faster,” Catra said.

“There’s a panel, on the left of the barrier. Remove the device from its case and enter it into the slot.”

Catra dropped him. “Let’s go,” she said to Chinara.

“Wait,” Chinara said. “I should stay with him. He’ll notify the Council if we leave him.”

“Okay, fine whatever. Stay here, I’ll come back,” Catra said.

“She won’t go with you,” the Elder said.

Catra froze. “What does that mean?”

The Elder frowned, staring intensely at Catra. “If you just give her a little more time alone in the lab, I fully believe—”

Catra made a disgusted sound and turned on her heel. “Chinara, stay put!” she yelled over her shoulder as she sprinted down the hallway.

The lab, Chinara had said, was just around the next corner. She ran to the end of the hall and found the doorway. Chinara was right, it looked open. Catra stuck her hand through the space, but it hit something invisible.

“Adora!” she yelled. “Are you in there?” She tried to look inside, but could only see the part of the lab directly in front of her. Most of the room wasn’t visible.

She found the panel, then the slot. It was hard to grip the small device well enough to remove its casing, but she finally did, letting the plastic-like container drop to the ground. As soon as she held the device itself, it grew bright, and hot. It was so hot it was burning her fingers, but she kept her grip firm and slid it into the opening. The device dimmed once she released it, but a wall on the panel lit up. She stuck her hand through the opening and it passed through as if there had never been anything there to stop it.

She entered the lab, turned to her right. There, at the end of a lab bench, sitting on a stool, was Adora.

Catra smiled, relief flooding through her. “Hey, Adora.” 

Adora jumped up from the bar stool, and Catra braced herself, fully prepared for Adora to tackle her in an embrace.

But Adora didn’t do that. Adora was frowning at Catra. Her blue eyes were bloodshot, and haunted.

“Adora?” Catra said. “Are you okay?” She reached for her, but Adora flinched away.

“What are you doing here?” Adora said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry not sorry for that cliffhanger lol. Thank you so much to everyone reading! Thank you for all the kudos & comments. <3 They're my sustenance.


	10. Chapter 10

“What am I doing here?” Catra repeated, frowning but teasing, light. Adora realized that even now Catra was trying to trick her. “Uh, I’m here to get you, stupid. How do you always get captured? Literally every time.”

Adora saw the weapon held by Catra’s belt. “What’s that?”

Catra looked down. “The stun gun?” She took it from her belt and tossed it in her hand, turning it over. “Pretty nice, actually. These guards aren’t…” Catra trailed off, seeing Adora wielding the scalpel-like knife. “What are you doing?”

“Put it away.” Adora’s hands were sweaty on the knife.

“Scared I’ll zap you?” Catra said, laughing.

The sound tugged at something in Adora, a past life, long gone. But no one could turn back time, much as they tried to. “You have before.”

Catra opened her mouth, closed it, laughed once. “Yeah, it’s been awhile.” She clearly meant it as a joke, but the mirth fell off her words, then her face. “Are you mad at me or something?” She stepped toward her, and Adora stepped back. “What’s going on?”

“I know, okay?” Adora said, breathing fast, gulping on air. “I know what you did.”

“What?” The shock on Catra’s face looked so genuine, but Adora knew better now. She would never be tricked like that again. Better to know the truth than to be used, and hurt, and left.

“You betrayed me.” Adora spun the knife around and around in her fingers. 

Catra paused, her eyes narrowing, going dark. She shook her head, said, “That’s old news,” the tone belying the flippancy. Her hands were fisted, but she released them, raised them, as she took another half-step toward Adora. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“I know you gave me up to the Council!” Adora yelled, her voice breaking. “You made a deal with them.”

“Adora.” Catra eyes were wide, pleading. “No, I didn’t. You’re acting—you’re acting really weird.” Her face hardened. “What did they do to you?”

“They didn’t do anything to me.”

Catra took a couple more steps toward her.

“Stop!” Adora yelled, lifting the knife higher, wishing she had her sword. She didn’t know if she could beat Catra in a fight with this tiny blade, but she would try.

Catra obeyed, showing Adora her palms again.

It was hard for Adora to keep the knife trained on Catra. She had already gotten used to letting her guard down, she supposed. Why hadn’t she seen how everything Catra had done—everything she had said—was just manipulation, words to get her here? To give Adora to these people. And still—still—Adora couldn’t keep the anger together, it fell apart as soon as she recognized it, turned to despair. “I don’t want to fight you anymore,” Adora said, plaintive.

Catra lifted her hands, palms still facing Adora. “That’s good,” Catra said gently. “Because I’m not going to fight you.”

Adora hung her head. “Because you don’t need to. You already turned me in.”

“No,” Catra said, sounding frustrated. “What’s going on? Did they mess with your head?” She sounded angry. “Did you forget…?” Catra trailed off, eyes darting across Adora’s face.

“I remember everything!” Adora said. “I remember better than I ever have. You said you were leaving. I should have listened.”

“Leaving?” Catra said. “When did I—?”

“You said we couldn’t fix it.” Adora was moving backward, further into the lab, trying to navigate by watching the equipment out of the corner of her eye. “You were telling me then, and I just didn’t want to listen.”

Catra stopped moving. “You—do you mean weeks ago? When I freaked out after you heard me talking to Scorpia?”

“I was so stupid,” Adora said. “I ruined everything. But I—” She was still spinning the knife, sweat slipping between her fingers.

“No,” Catra said. “You didn’t. Listen, did they give you something? A drink? A drug?”

Adora shook her head. “No.” She wiped the sweat off her brow with her sleeve.

“It really seems like something happened,” Catra said, approaching her again. Adora raised the tiny knife defensively. “Okay. Oh.” She looked down at the stun gun in her hands like she forgot it was there. “Look. I’m going to give you this.” Catra leaned over to place the taser on the floor and kicked it over to Adora.

Adora stopped the taser under her foot and frowned. “Why did you do that?”

“I told you. I’m not going to fight you.”

“Then why did you come here?” Adora said.

“To save you, obviously!” Catra growled.

“You wouldn’t save me,” Adora said, feeling the tears on her face.

Adora watched Catra’s face crumble, too, and it hurt her, to see Catra hurt, even though she knew she was lying. Even though she knew Catra had betrayed her. Why did Adora still feel so much?

“Adora,” Catra said, pleading. She closed her eyes, once, and opened them, determination clear. “I know there’s something wrong. You’re not thinking straight. I’m here now. And we have to go. Right now. You don’t have to trust me, but I’m going to get you out of here.”

“No,” Adora said. “I’m not stupid anymore. I’m not going to let you hurt me.”

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Catra said. “Not ever again. I promise.”

Adora shook her head, tears blurring her vision. “I can’t trust you. I have to save myself this time.”

Catra flinched at that, but she took a couple of breaths and then considered Adora with a long, piercing look. “Okay. Then save yourself. Go to the ship. I’ll stay here.”

“What ship?” Adora narrowed her eyes.

“Bow and Glimmer are there. They’ll take you home.”

“They betrayed me too!” Adora said. “I know they did. Glimmer left me!”

Catra cocked an eyebrow. “You don’t trust Bow and Glimmer, either?”

“No,” Adora said. “They had to have been helping you.” She scrunched her face up. “Stop trying to distract me. You need to go!” She took a step toward Catra this time, still brandishing the little blade. She wasn’t using it properly at all, not as a weapon. She knew it was just theatrics. She didn’t know what else to do.

“You can stab me if you want, Adora,” Catra said, and took a step toward Adora, toward the knife.

“I don’t _want_ to,” Adora said, feeling desperate now. She was the one with both weapons, but she felt defenseless and terrified. “I just want you to leave.”

“Why?” Catra said, taking another step forward.

“I told you why!” Adora wailed. “Stop!”

Catra took another step forward. “No.” Catra was close enough now that she could make a move for the knife, if she wanted. “Guess you’re going to have to fight me after all.”

“I will if I have to!” Adora yelled.

Catra took another step, into the knife, so it was pressed into her chest. “I know this isn’t you.”

“It is!” she said. “Back off!”

“No,” Catra said again. “What happened after that? When you found me on the balcony? If you remember everything, tell me what you said after that.”

“You were lying,” Adora said. “You’ve been lying this whole time.”

“What about now? I can’t lie, remember that?”

Adora swallowed. “A ruse.”

Catra looked down at the knife. “Are you going to stab me or what?”

Adora’s whole arm was shaking. She could feel sweat dripping off her nose. “Please, just leave,” she whispered.

Catra’s eyes were soft. “You told me you were never going to want me to leave, then.”

“That was before I—” Adora broke off, remember that feeling on the balcony, the relief and happiness. Catra’s lips on hers, demanding and sure.

“I promised you then,” Catra said, getting even closer, letting the point of Adora’s knife pierce the dark fabric just below her collarbone. “Whatever you wanted. So, go ahead, if this is what you want.”

Adora watched the point of knife touch Catra, but when she looked up, Catra was looking at her. Adora thought, _What have we done?_

* * *

Bow, Koldo, and Fae were hiding in yet another storage closet.

“Is this a normal thing for you?” Fae whispered.

“Shh!” Bow said, trying to see between the slots.

“Did he just shush me?” she said to Koldo.

When they had reached the atrium minutes ago, they had found it crawling with guards. Izar was at the center of them, and next to her, hands held behind her back, was Glimmer. Bow hadn’t let himself feel relief until he saw her glaring steadily at Izar, and then he knew she was okay.

He had wanted to try to take them all down, but he didn’t think the three of them could manage so many. He guessed there were at least two dozen guards surrounding Izar and Glimmer, and they were all armed with stun guns. And although Fae was clearly a fighter, Bow didn’t think that Koldo’s temporary aggressiveness with his father was going to reassert itself any time soon. In fact, Koldo had spent the entire rushed trip back up to the atrium saying, “What did I do? He’s going to kill me, he really will,” until Fae told him that she would do it instead if he didn’t stop talking.

Bow had to admit, he was glad she had gotten Koldo to stop talking.

“They’re not even close enough to hear us,” Fae said. “We need to draw some of them away.”

Bow nodded. “Any ideas?”

Fae shrugged. “I’m fast. I could get their attention and outrun them.”

Bow considered. “You don’t know this place well, though. They do.”

“I’m going to say something really stupid,” Koldo said.

Fae and Bow stared at him as he bit his lip.

“The Best Friend Squad is all about stupid ideas,” Bow said, encouraging.

“Best Friend… what?” Fae said, a look on her face like she couldn’t bear to finish the thought.

“It would be better if we could be fast, right?” Koldo said. “Even faster than Fae?”

“That would help,” Bow said.

“Do you remember those bikes we saw?” Koldo said to Fae.

“Oh, no,” Fae said.

“This is what I’m thinking,” Koldo said.

The plan was straightforward, at least. Koldo and Fae would find bikes to steal, drive into the atrium, and Fae would drive out, hopefully leading several guards away. Then Koldo would distract his mother as much as possible while Bow got Glimmer.

Koldo had been skeptical about how much his mother would be distracted by him.

“She has bigger things on her mind,” he said. “I don’t know if it’ll work.”

Bow clapped him on the shoulder. “It’s the best we have.”

Bow had watched the two of them sneak away into a dark corner of the atrium and down a side hallway, presumably toward the street where they had seen the bikes, when finally they had a stroke of luck.

“Benat,” Bow heard Izar say into her communication device, “where have you been? I’ve been waiting here, stuck in the station of all places. What—?”

“They have turned against us, Izar,” Benat said.

“So I heard,” Izar said. “Koldo, too?”

“He… used a taser on me.”

Bow couldn’t see much of Izar’s face in profile, but she didn’t speak for several moments. “They’re trying to escape,” she said, not a question. “With She-Ra.”

“Yes,” Benat said.

“Where’s Chinara?”

“I think she’s headed to the lab,” Benat said. “With the violent one.”

“Do not let them leave,” Izar hissed. “I’m sending you half of my security force there now.”

“I’ll see to it,” Benat said.

“Benat,” Izar said, “do not lose sight of our goal. Do not be distracted by the children.”

They signed off, and Izar sent half the guards downstairs, as she said.

Bow waited for long enough that he was considering his chances of distracting enough guards himself to give Glimmer a chance to escape, when he heard the bikes. He watched Izar and the rest of the guards turn their heads this way and that, unsure which direction the sound came from in the echoey atrium.

He heard the sound of an engine revving and then Fae was zipping across the tile of the atrium, zapping three of the remaining guards and then speeding off. Before anyone could try to follow her, Koldo was driving—or trying to drive, Bow thought, trying not to laugh, toward his mom. He was weaving, barely holding the bike upright. When he neared Izar and the group of guards, he shouted, “Get out of the way!” They scattered, but two of them weren’t in time, and he hit them with the handles of his bike before he weaved away and skidded across the floor. Bow took that as his signal to move.

He emerged from the closet, shooting three arrows in quick succession. He was extremely proud that one of his nets caught two guards at once. There were only three more guards standing, which Fae, when she came zooming back into the room, made quick work of with her stun gun.

“Bow!” Glimmer yelled, grinning. “That was awesome, two at once?”

“Right?” he said, he moved to go over to her and free her hands, but Izar stood in his way.

“Stop,” she commanded. She had managed to grab a stun gun for herself, and had it pointed at Glimmer.

Bow halted. He watched as beside them Fae helped Koldo up from his less than dignified sprawl under his bike. “That was even worse than I expected,” Fae said, sounding oddly genuine and disappointed.

“It was my first time!” Koldo protested.

“Let Glimmer go,” Bow said to Izar. “You’ve lost.”

“That was hardly the extent of my security force,” Izar said. “More will be coming to replace them shortly, and I don’t intend on letting you go and help your She-Ra escape.”

Glimmer writhed and groaned in frustration. “Just give _up_ already,” she said to Izar.

Izar gripped Glimmer’s arm so tightly Bow could see the imprints on her skin.

“Let go of her now,” Bow said, pointing a net-arrow at her.

But Izar began backing up, dragging Glimmer along with her.

“Go ahead and zap her!” Fae yelled. “You can’t run and carry her at the same time.”

“Hey!” Bow and Glimmer said in protest at the same time.

But Izar had slipped a white-purple shard from her sleeve and was holding it to Glimmer’s neck. “I could just kill her here, if you prefer.”

Bow lowered his arrow and met Glimmer’s eyes. _Don’t move,_ he tried to tell her, prayed she would listen to him for once. “We’ll do whatever you want. Don’t hurt her.”

“Then you’ll follow me,” she said.

“No,” Koldo said, taking a step toward his mother. “You’ll let her go, Mother.”

Izar shook her head. “You were always a disappointment, Koldo. Just when I thought you might make something of yourself. Here we are.”

“At least he’s not going around threatening innocent people!” Fae said.

“Really?” Izar raised an eyebrow. “I heard that he stunned his own father.”

“That—” Koldo swallowed. “He deserved it. You—both you and Dad have gone too far. I used to think that you knew what was best for us. For all of Satellite. But now I realize that you’ve just been using us, all along.”

“I have always only done what was necessary,” Izar said.

Koldo shook his head, took a step closer. “No, you haven’t. I saw Exodus today, Mother.”

Izar’s eyes went wide, but she kept her hand steady on the shard at Glimmer’s neck.

“I saw the people here,” Koldo continued. “They weren’t any of the things you, and Dad, and Master told me. They weren’t killing each other on the street. They were just like the Etherians, actually, Mom.” Koldo gestured at Bow and Fae. “They were friendly, and loud, and often rude—”

“Really?” Fae said.

“But they helped me,” Koldo continued, his voice growing loud with emotion. “They had no reason to help me, to be kind to me. But they were anyway. They have done more for me in the last four days than you’ve done for me your entire life!” By the end of this Koldo was yelling, his eyes filling with tears, but Bow was paying attention.

Izar had finally reacted, her hand going slack around the shard, falling from Glimmer’s neck. Bow met Glimmer’s eyes and mouthed, _Now!_

Glimmer elbowed Izar in the middle, and Bow captured her in a net.

Bow was at Glimmer’s side in an instant, freeing her hands. Glimmer threw her arms around him. “I was so scared when you weren’t at the ship!”

Bow pulled back and ran his fingers through her hair, lifting the strands out of her eyes. He shook his head. “These two were a handful.”

“Hello?” Fae said. “We just saved you.”

Glimmer laughed and kissed Bow on the mouth.

Bow noticed Koldo staring, eyes wide, and Fae with arms folded saying, “Never seen a kiss before?”

Koldo spluttered. “I—uh—”

Both Glimmer and Bow were laughing now. Glimmer sobered fast, though, turning to Bow again. “Catra and Chinara. They’re getting Adora?”

Bow nodded. “Yeah, hopefully they don’t have any…”

It didn’t occur to Bow until then that although the guards being sent to the lab had been a stroke of luck for them, it was hardly one for Adora, Catra, and Chinara.

* * *

Adora hadn’t forgotten what had happened, then, after she found Catra on Bright Moon’s balcony. She remembered it clearly. She remembered all of it again, now, her knife still pressed to Catra’s chest.

“It can’t be _fixed_ , Adora,” Catra said.

“It can,” Adora had said, trying to sound sure of herself, but it came out as a plea. “We can fix anything.”

“It’s _me_ , Adora!” Catra said, her voice raised. “This is how I _am_! I thought everything was okay, but when you said that, I—” She broke off. “I can’t just be fixed.”

Adora stared. “I don’t want to fix _you_.”

Catra let out an unhappy laugh. “We both know that’s not true.”

“It is true,” Adora said, angry now. “You’re a person. You don’t need to be fixed.”

That made Catra pause. “Then… what did you mean?”

“I mean whatever you’re upset about! I only wanted to tell you that I would support your decision, whatever it was. About helping Scorpia. That I didn’t want you to feel like you had to stay at Bright Moon. That I would go with you, if you wanted.” Adora paused, took a breath. “I don’t want to hold you back.”

“You don’t want me to go?” Catra said, almost whispering.

This time when Adora reached for her, Catra met her halfway. Adora kissed her on the lips, on the cheeks, on the nose, everywhere. “No,” Adora said. “I don’t want you to go. I love you.” Catra held her so tightly Adora thought her ribs might be sore later, but Adora didn’t want her to loosen her grip. Adora kissed her again, holding her face with two hands, but then she pulled back to look Catra in the eyes. Catra’s eyes were gleaming in the sunlight. Her ears twitched as she looked up at Adora, hopeful, searching, soft. Her short hair waved in the wind.

Whenever Adora had been most upset during her years at Bright Moon, she would come up here, to this ledge. She realized now she had been mimicking what Catra always did in an attempt to understand her better. Adora had always ended up crying herself out up here, helplessly stuck between her past and her present, between what she wanted and what she had to do.

She felt the echo of her past on this balcony, then. She didn’t know how to stop wanting things now that she had started.

“I want you to stay,” Adora said, still cradling Catra’s head. “I always will. Okay?”

“Oh,” Catra said, seeming to sink into Adora’s hands.

“What did you mean, before?” Adora said. “That it was intense? In the Heart?”

Catra nodded.

“You thought I got caught up in the moment and said I loved you by accident?”

Catra pursed her lips. “You might have.”

Adora snorted. She ran her thumbs along Catra’s cheek. “Has it been too intense for you?” Adora realized how intense their current entanglement was, and drew her hands back from Catra’s face.

Catra pulled Adora’s mouth to her hard. Her kiss jagged and bruising and perfect. “No,” she said, when she broke away.

“Oh,” Adora said, between breaths. “Catra. Do you want to be here? I never asked.”

“Yes.” Catra twirled her fingers in the ends of Adora’s ponytail.

“I mean at Bright Moon. it’s your decision too,” Adora said. “We should make decisions together.”

Catra stared at her in silence for a few beats.

“I mean,” Adora said, “if you want to. Make decisions together. It’s your decision.”

Catra burst into laughter, doubling over.

“All right,” Adora said eyes narrowed, arms crossed, after Catra had gone on long enough that she was clutching her sides as if in pain. But Adora was smiling, too.

Catra straightened, grasping Adora’s arm to do it. “Adora,” she said, once she had stopped laughing, but her eyes were still sparkling. “Thank you.”

“For what?” Adora pulled Catra to her again, unable to keep any space between them.

Catra kissed the place below Adora’s ear. “All of it.”

“All of _what_?” Adora said, grinning now.

“You are so annoying,” Catra said, kissing her neck.

“Mm,” Adora said, letting her eyes fall closed, “but I want to know.”

“It’s always something with you,” Catra said, and her hands were in Adora’s hair now, her lips back to her mouth.

“Promise me—” Adora started.

“Okay,” Catra said.

“You don’t know what.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

* * *

Catra really hoped Adora wouldn’t actually stab her.

At first, Catra had worried it was like Prime, that Adora’s mind was locked away somewhere, but Catra could tell almost right away that wasn’t the case. It was the same Adora, just, shifted. Like she was seeing all the same things Catra was seeing, but through wavy glass, everything bent and broken through its lens.

As long as it was Adora, Catra could get through to her. It didn’t matter how much mind-bending glass was between them.

Still, Catra was relieved when Adora dropped the knife between them.

“We worked it out,” Adora said now, her eyes wide. “You wouldn’t give me up to them.”

Catra smiled, letting a tooth jut out. “I’m reformed now, remember?” she said.

“Catra,” Adora said, and reached for her.

Catra held her, her hands in Adora’s hair, then between her shoulder blades, running along her arms, her ribcage. She was okay. They were okay. “I told you not to be an idiot.”

Adora let out a long, shuddering sigh. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why—” Her breath hitched. “I don’t know what I was thinking. Catra. I love you. I don’t know what _happened_ —”

“It’s okay,” Catra said, squeezing her tight. “It doesn’t matter. You’re okay. I’ve got you.” 

“Ah!” Adora said, hissing and pulling back from her. Something dropped, clanging on the floor. Adora was cradling her left wrist between them.

“Adora?” Catra said. “What is it? Are you—” She pulled Adora’s wrist to her. Catra peeled back the edge of the sleeve and saw a burn at Adora’s pulse point, the edges painfully seared. “What did this?” Catra demanded.

“I had the shard under my sleeve,” Adora said.

Catra reached to pick the thing up that had fallen, but Adora stopped her with her other hand.

“Don’t!” Adora frowned. “Don’t touch it. And don’t… let me touch it.”

Catra glared at the shard and pulled Adora away from it.

They both heard guards rushing down the hall and looked at each other, eyes wide.

Catra found the taser on the ground and put it back in her belt. “Are you done trying to kill me now? Cause I think we should leave.”

Adora threw her arms around Catra’s neck. “I’m so sorry.”

“It wasn’t even you, dummy,” Catra whispered, tugging the end of her ponytail very gently.

Adora let her go, searched the ground for the knife. “This is the best thing I could find in here,” she grumbled, picking it up anyway.

“Were you expecting a giant sword?”

Adora’s mouth turned up. “Maybe.” 

They started jogging down the hallway away from the sound of rushing feet.

“Where is everybody?” Adora asked.

“That creepy red lady has Glimmer. Bow and them are getting her. We’re supposed to meet at the ship.”

“So you came to rescue me yourself?” Adora said, grinning, lifting her eyebrows. “That’s really romantic.”

“Romantic?” Catra yelped. “You tried to stab me.”

“Yeah, what was that?” Adora said, as they turned a corner. “I could have hurt you! You walked right into the knife!”

“You think you can take me without She-Ra?” Catra said, smug. “Please.”

They found an elevator and ran into it. “Do you know where we’re going?” Adora said, catching her breath, once they were inside.

“Nope.”

Adora nudged Catra with her shoulder, gentle. “Thank you. You saved me.”

“Yeah, what else is new?” Catra said. “Don’t make me do it again.”

“You would do it _again_?” Adora said, her eyes going all sparkly.

“Shut _up_ , Adora,” Catra said, but the doors of the elevator were mirrors and she could see herself blushing. “I didn’t even rescue you by myself, so you don’t have to get all mushy. Chinara was… uh oh.”

“What?” Adora said.

“I forgot about Chinara.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was finishing this chapter when I saw Noelle tweet about Catra's nine lives, so now I'm going to have to start counting them in this. When Adora says, "You wouldn't save me," Catra defs loses a life lol. Thanks for reading! You save ME with your kudos/ comments.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! This "finale" chapter of the Satellite arc got really long, so I broke it into two parts. Part 2 should be up within the next day, but hope you enjoy Part 1. I love all your kudos/ comments. Thank you!

“She’s probably fine,” Catra said, her tail brushing Adora’s hand as they crossed the station’s atrium. “She’ll catch up.”

“We can’t _leave_ Chinara.” Adora was searching for a part of the station that looked familiar. The station was bizarrely empty, which made Adora wonder if the Spire had complete control over it. That meant they could be tracking their movements. Adora searched the pillars for cameras, but there was nothing. Still, she knew Satellite’s tech could be better concealed than Horde surveillance systems.

“I guess you’re letting _anyone_ into the squad now,” Catra said sourly.

“Seriously?” Adora said flatly. “You said she—” She cut off as she noticed a slumped figure at the base of a nearby pillar. She grabbed Catra’s arm and nodded toward it.

They approached cautiously at first, but then Catra burst into laughter and ran over to the pillar, her toenails clicking on the tile. “The arrows are actually good for something,” she said, cackling, her voice echoing through the airy space. She removed a bit of paper that was pierced by the arrow to the pillar.

Izar was slumped against the pillar, tied with rope, mouth stuffed with cloth, and eyes rabid. She squirmed as Catra and Adora approached.

Catra showed Adora the note. “DO NOT UNTIE. C & A, we have Glim, meet us at the ship!!! <3 Bow.”

Adora snorted. “Did Bow think we would let her go?”

“I mean, _you_ might.” Catra leaned over Izar. “So it was your plan to kidnap Adora, huh?”

Izar went still, her eyes narrowed.

Catra reached to remove the cloth from Izar’s mouth.

“Catra—” Adora started.

“You’ll never get out of here alive,” Izar said as soon as her mouth was free.

Catra looked at Adora. “I wasn’t this boring when I was evil, right?”

Adora closed her eyes and sighed. “We don’t have time for this.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Catra turned back to Izar. “What did you do to Adora? Before? With that magic stuff?”

Izar raised her eyebrows. “We did nothing to her. The magic shows her the hard truth of things. Did she say something you didn’t like?”

Adora watched Catra’s eyes go wide. Adora held her arm before she could move toward Izar again. She waited until Catra looked at her. “She’s not going to tell us anything useful.” Adora hoped Catra understood the other half of what she wanted to say, unspoken: _You’re letting her get to you._ Catra nodded once, fast, and Adora dropped her grip from her arm.

Catra crouched next to Izar, making Izar flinch with her proximity. Adora still felt uneasy around the woman, even with her tied up, completely helpless, and had to stop herself from pulling Catra away from her. Izar’s red skull markings looked more like open wounds than artwork to Adora now. It could have made her look vulnerable, but instead it emphasized her vicious and raw expressions. Just being close to her made Adora feel illogically scared, a nightmare fear. Like even the shadows might be able to hurt them here.

“Catra, let’s go,” Adora said.

“You’re doubting what you mean to her, aren’t you?” Izar said to Catra. Although Izar clearly didn’t like Catra so close her breath must have been felt on her face, nothing about Izar’s sharp meanness softened. “Maybe the bond between you isn’t as strong as you thought.”

Adora tensed, but Catra didn’t respond to this at all. “Where’s your communication device?” Catra said instead.

“I don’t have one,” Izar said.

“Come on,” Catra said, “I don’t want to search through your creepy robe.”

Izar didn’t respond, but Catra noticed the device slipping out of a pocket at her side, anyway. Catra smirked at her and took it. “Thanks so much for your help,” she said with over-the-top sarcasm.

“You’re insufferable,” Izar said.

Catra laughed in delight. “Adora, I’m _insufferable_!” She mimicked Izar’s commanding voice.

“Oh, I know,” Adora said, pulling Catra further away from Izar.

Catra smacked Adora, but allowed herself to be pulled away. Catra was fiddling with the dials on the device.

“What are you doing?” Adora said.

“Ugh,” Catra said, “I can’t read any of this.”

“We need to find—”

“I know, I know, you adopted another idiot,” Catra said. “I’m trying to find a map, all right?”

“You forgot where you left Chinara?” Adora squealed.

“I mean, I wanted to leave her here, persona—” Catra broke off to grab her stomach. Her grip on the device loosened.

Before Catra could drop it, Adora took it from her hands. “Will you stop that? You’re going to give yourself stomach damage.”

“Stomach damage?” Catra laughed. She straightened and leaned over Adora’s shoulder to look at the communicator, too.

“Is it a sharp pain?” Izar called to Catra. “Like a knife?”

Adora felt Catra freeze. “It’s none of your business,” Adora said.

“Benat will surely have our daughter in custody by now,” Izar said. “And it is my business. I know that reaction well.”

Adora and Catra both looked at her. They stayed silent.

“It was you who took the vial, was it not?” she said to Catra.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Catra said.

“The magic pains you.” Izar frowned, and Adora thought it looked like a flash of something real crossed her features. Her next words were plain, seemingly without malice. Adora had the feeling she had said them before. “It means you’re too corrupt to carry it. There’s not enough good within you to hold the pure magic. It’s what happened to us, as well. You’ve begun to corrupt it yourself.”

Catra’s grip tightened on Adora’s shoulder.

Izar let her head fall back on the pillar. She huffed. “You really have doomed us.” She almost sounded satisfied, like she was ending a long argument.

“That’s not true,” Adora said, angry.

Izar tilted her head, her eyes bright and harsh. “Maybe you’re right. Perhaps it was more your fault, for not taking the vial yourself, She-Ra.”

Before Adora could respond, the communicator beeped. Benat’s face appeared on the screen. Adora couldn’t read the Zilharran script, but it looked like an incoming video call.

Adora was tired of reacting to these people. In the last several hours, she had been lied to, detained, and manipulated. Their magic had made her threaten Catra, and now they were trying to pretend it was all their fault.

“I’m sick of being jerked around,” Adora said out loud. “I’ve got a really bad idea.” She twisted her head to look at Catra.

“Of course you do,” Catra said, smirking, the familiar gleam of mischief in her eyes.

Adora spun around so that Izar could be seen in the screen behind her. She pressed what she hoped was the “Answer” button on the device. Benat appeared, his eyes widened in shock.

“Hey, Benat,” Adora said. “Izar can’t talk right now.” Adora held the screen over her shoulder to show Izar tied to the pillar. “But I think I’m the one you want, anyway. You bring Chinara here to the station and let’s talk.”

She clicked disconnect before she could think too much about it. Adora looked at Catra, expecting her to be annoyed, but she looked thoughtful, eyes narrowed.

“Is the magic still messing with you?” Catra said.

“No,” Adora said, fast, hoping Catra hadn’t noticed her strange moment of almost-panic with Izar.

Catra narrowed her eyes at her. “Something’s off.” She nodded at the device. “That was almost… cool.”

Adora scrunched her nose up at her. “It was very cool.” She flipped her ponytail.

“So what’s your plan for when they get here, very cool princess?”

“We make the trade,” Adora said, shrugging.

“You think they’ll give us Chinara just like that?” Catra said, tail waving behind her.

“Well, if they don’t, we fight them, obviously,” Adora said.

“The two of us? Fight all the guards they can send?” Catra said, unimpressed.

Adora frowned but didn’t say anything.

“You forgot you couldn’t transform into She-Ra, didn’t you?” Catra said.

“No!” Adora said, too fast.

Catra tapped her foot, expression turning thoughtful. “They might give us Chinara, but they’ll still try to capture you.” She looked over at Izar. “She’s not gunna give up easy.” Catra looked at Adora. “I have a plan, but you will hate it.” She grinned.

* * *

Fae would never admit it aloud, but she had thought that the people who had taken down Horde Prime would be more impressive than this. But as she watched Bow and Glimmer bicker over which turn to take to make it back to the hangar fastest, she figured it was pure luck that had pulled them through.

“Will you two shut up?” Fae said. The four of them—her, Bow, Glimmer, and Koldo, had just come from a shop where they had filled a cart with as many rations as they could. They needed to find a fuel station now, which Koldo seemed sure was close to the hangar, but they had gotten lost in the maze of hallways on that level. They were paused now at an intersection of hallways, where there was a wall of signs that Koldo was trying to decipher, and Glimmer and Bow would not stop bickering.

Glimmer folded her arms. “Do you know which way to go, Horde girl?”

“I know that standing here arguing isn’t going to help us find the fuel station,” she said.

Glimmer huffed, but Bow said, “She has a point.”

“Can you tell anything it says?” Glimmer said to Koldo.

“Yeah.” Koldo crossed an arm across his chest to hold his other elbow, gazing up at the sign on the wall. “It just doesn’t say ‘fuel station’ exactly.”

Fae thought he was being especially weird again. Was he hiding something from them? He looked so lost; it was hard to believe the act was artful. “Let’s just start looking, then,” Fae said, the words coming out gentle. She chose a direction and began walking, not waiting for anyone. They followed her, anyway.

“Guess we have to,” Koldo said, not meeting anyone’s eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Fae said. “It’s not like these two have been any help either.”

“You could at least _try_ to be pleasant,” Glimmer snapped, “and maybe people would listen to you more.”

“I think I know more about leadership than you,” Fae said back. “I had to earn my place.”

“If you want to connect to the rune stone at Bright Moon, you can go ahead and try, you—”

“Guys, we don’t have the time—” Bow said, to no avail.

“I would do a better job as ruler, rune stone or no rune stone,” Fae said.

“Guys!” Koldo said. “There it is!” He sprinted further down the hall, coming to a stop before a room filled with shelves full of containers.

Fae followed him into the room as he searched the rows. There were different sorts of markings on all the containers. “We need L7 and L8. At least two containers each…” he was mumbling to himself. He ran a finger along the labels as he crouched down to get a better look. After a few minutes of this he groaned and ran his hands over the orange markings on his head as Fae had seen him do when he got nervous.

“Koldo,” she said, “what is it?”

He sighed. “I don’t know which one is which. All the markings get jumbled up.”

“Why didn’t you say something before?” Fae demanded, crouching down next to him. “Okay, so this shape is like a circle? And then like it has a little top on it like a hat.”

She went through the row of labels, trying to explain each one to him. Some of them Koldo knew, and some of them he couldn’t decipher from her descriptions. He had asked her to describe one particularly complicated shape about ten times before Bow came over to them.

“I’m sorry,” Bow said, “we have to go. We can’t stay here this long. Just choose.”

“We can’t guess!” Koldo protested. “If we get the wrong mixture of fuel types, we won’t even be able to start the ship.”

“He’s right,” Fae said. “Okay, we know it’s the circle and hat—what did you say? L7. We’ll take as many as we can carry. And then one of all the other ones. At least we’ll have some fuel, then right? We’ll at least be able to get the ship going, even if we can’t go far.”

Koldo, nodding, began pulling containers from the shelving, handing them to Bow and Glimmer and Fae.

“Thanks,” Koldo said to Fae, placing a container in her arms.

“What for?” she said, grunting slightly as he placed a heavier container on top of the first.

He shrugged. “For being patient. Most people aren’t.”

Fae laughed.

“What?” Koldo said, his eyes intense like they got sometimes.

“Nobody’s ever said I was patient before,” Fae said, still laughing.

Koldo leaned over the containers Fae held and pressed his lips to hers. He pulled away before Fae had processed what happened.

“What was that?” Fae demanded when she found her voice.

“Did I do it wrong?” Koldo said. “Kiss?”

“What—no—I mean, yes! I mean, why did you?”

Koldo was grinning at her.

“Guys!” Glimmer yelled. “Let’s go!”

Fae turned away from Koldo and joined Bow and Glimmer in the hallway, who were trying to lead the cart filled with rations as they balanced their containers on its sides. Fae wished she had a free hand to touch her lips, feeling like there was something there she would be able to feel.

* * *

“Catra,” Adora whined. “This is never gunna work.”

“Yes, it will, just stick to what I said,” Catra hissed.

They heard the guards moving from the adjacent hallway. Adora gave Catra a pitiful look again, but Catra just put a hand at her hip. “Don’t be a baby,” she said. “And do not go off script.” Catra pressed the space between Adora’s eyes and then slunk into the shadows behind the row of pillars.

“I barely remember the script,” Adora hissed in her direction.

Catra was hidden when the guards, led by Benat, entered the main area of the atrium. As they hoped, Chinara was next to them, her hands tied behind her back, her mouth set in a firm line.

“Hello, She-Ra,” Benat said. “You’ve made a grave mistake this time.”

“Is that right,” Adora said, putting a hand on her hip, and Catra thought her bluster was a little heavy-handed, but she would take it.

Catra waited until all the guards were facing Adora and Izar and crept between the pillars to get behind Chinara. Catra would have to get Chinara’s attention without any of the other guards noticing. Somehow.

“Bring Izar here,” Benat was saying.

Adora was holding Izar upright by the woman’s elbow. “I’ve been thinking, Benat,” Adora started. “That we’re a lot alike.”

Catra was directly behind Chinara now, but there were several guards at either side of her. Catra would never be able to loosen Chinara’s hands without them noticing. Catra noticed a tracker pad peeking out of Chinara’s pocket. One piece of luck, at least.

Benat chuckled. “Alike?” he said. “And how is that?”

“We both have been used by our leaders,” Adora went on. Catra had told her to be loud, and she was, voice ringing across all the marble. “I realized,” Adora continued, “talking to Izar here, that she’s just like Queen Glimmer. Glimmer has used me for my power, thrown me aside once she was done with me. She ordered me to come here, you know. I never had a choice. And you—I don’t think you’ve had much of a choice either.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, She-Ra,” Benat said. “I’ve always made my own choices.”

“Was it your choice to step down from the Council?” Adora said.

Catra peeked from behind the pillar to watch Adora. One light eyebrow was raised, expression almost taunting. _Not terrible, Adora_ , Catra thought.

Benat hadn’t answered, but the guards looked uncomfortable, shuffling, glancing at one another. Catra took a chance and threw a ration bar wrapper at Chinara’s hands. Catra looked around, quickly, but none of the guards seemed to have noticed. Chinara’s hand twitched, a reflex. _Come on_ , Catra thought, _step back_.

“I have only ever made my own choices,” Benat said, but his voice was low in his throat.

“Okay,” Adora said. “Well if you’re making your own choices, I have a proposition for you.”

Catra’s nails dug into her palms as she glared at Chinara’s back, willing her to move. Chinara’s hands were squirming around, but she hadn’t made another move.

“You want me to stay here, right?” Adora said. “To use the magic for your people.”

“That’s the deal we made with Etheria already, yes,” Benat said.

“You know, I thought about that, when I touched the shard,” Adora said, “I thought about how everyone I’ve ever loved has betrayed me.”

There was something too genuine in Adora’s voice, and Catra realized she actually hadn’t thought through this plan all the way. _Of course now you’re convincing,_ she thought in Adora’s direction _._ Catra was still staring at the back of Chinara’s head, but neither she nor the guards around her had moved. But everyone was paying attention to Adora, so Catra took another chance. “Chinara!” she hissed. Chinara turned her head, very slightly.

“How I was always only a tool to be used by them,” Adora was saying. “And I thought—maybe you understand that. Understand me.”

Adora paused, and it was so quiet Catra worried her own breathing could be heard. Chinara turned her head forward once again.

“What are you getting at?” Benat said, openly angry now.

“I don’t like her,” Adora said, letting Izar fall to the ground on her knees. She made a loud noise of protest, but the cloth around her mouth was still firmly in place. “I won’t answer to her. But I thought, what if you were High Council, instead?”

Chinara took a step back toward Catra.

Benat said nothing, and Adora continued, “Izar, it’s clear she’s barely holding on to her position. Everything she’s done has been a failure. And now Zilharr’s source will never be reignited. She thought she could control me. She thought she could control Queen Glimmer, but she couldn’t even keep her in custody.”

Chinara had taken several more steps backward toward Catra. The guards seemed to still be enthralled by Adora’s speech.

“And now she’s leaving the Spire?” Adora said. “Putting everyone at risk by entering Exodus? And for what? Even if you do capture me, what good will that be? You can’t force me to help you study the magic.”

Chinara turned around as she reached the hall behind the row of pillars, her eyes going wide at the sight of Catra. Catra put a finger to her lips and dragged her down the hall and into a narrow, branching hall, far enough away from Adora and everyone else that they wouldn’t be heard.

“What are you—?” Chinara started.

“We’re here to get you, obviously,” Catra said. “Where’s the tracker pad?” Catra started patting at Chinara’s sides, trying to find it.

“If you untied my hands, I could help you,” Chinara said.

“Nah, it’s fine.” Catra held up the tracker pad. “I got it.”

“You are the most insufferable person I have ever met,” Chinara said through her teeth.

Catra grinned as the tracker pad rang Bow. “That’s not the first time I’ve heard that today,” she said gleefully.

“Catra!” Bow said from the screen. The control room of the spaceship was visible behind him, and Catra breathed a small sigh of relief. “Are you okay? Is Adora okay?”

“Yes, yes, I got her, she’s fine. We have Chinara too.” Catra stuck a thumb over at Chinara, who was trying to step through the circle of her arms to bring her hands in front of her. “But listen. We have a situation.”

“A situation?” Bow said.

“Yeah,” Catra said. “Involving Benat and Izar and like fifteen guards.”

“What!” Bow said, voice breaking.

“You need to pick us up,” Catra said.

“This is a spaceship, not a—” Bow started.

Catra turned her head at the sound of Benat yelling, “Where is she?”

“What was that?” Bow said, eyes wide.

“I gotta go,” Catra said. “Pick us up in front of the station.” She hung up.

“Spaceships can’t just—” Chinara began, but Catra wasn’t paying any attention.

Catra ran back through the shadowy space behind the pillars, only to come to an abrupt halt as she saw the guards branching out in all directions, searching. She just barely pulled Chinara and herself behind a pillar before a guard walked by. He turned his head, but before he could yell out, Catra zapped him and dragged him behind the same pillar they were hiding behind.

Chinara had finally gotten her hands out in front of her, and was now trying to bite the knot at her wrists with her teeth.

“You still haven’t gotten out of that?” Catra said, raising an eyebrow.

Chinara just glared at her, still pulling at the cord with her teeth, but Catra laughed quietly and yanked the cord, untying the knot.

“Thank you,” Chinara said stiffly, still having to wiggle her hands free of the loosened bindings.

“Where is she?” Benat said again, quieter but more menacing, and both Catra and Chinara turned their heads to look out over the edge of the pillar.

Benat was approaching Adora now, who was dragging Izar along beside her.

“I don’t know what happened to her,” Catra heard Adora say, distinctly and obviously lying now. “It’s not like I was paying attention to Chinara.”

“We have to make a run for it,” Catra said to Chinara. “Might as well do it now, while the guards are scatter—”

She broke off when she heard Adora cry out. Catra looked out past the pillar to see Izar standing in front of Adora, a familiar-looking purple-white shard in her hands. Adora was backing up, wielding the tiny knife, glaring at Izar. Blood from a cut on Adora’s upper arm dripped to the tile.

Catra sprinted out into the center of the atrium, straight for Izar. Catra landed a kick to her stomach, hard enough to send her flying backward.

“Guards! Here!” Benat yelled, before Catra could punch him in the face. Catra was satisfied to see his nose looked broken.

She turned to Adora, who still had the knife out in front of her and was staring at the shard lying on the ground a few feet away from her.

“Adora?” Catra said, seeing her forehead bead with sweat.

Adora tore her eyes from the shard and looked at Catra. She put the knife back in her sleeve, and Catra noted she used the cut arm to grasp the knife, so her wound couldn’t be too serious. “I’m okay,” Adora said, eyes widening as she watched more guards gather and follow them.

Chinara made it to their side, sparing a brief glance for her parents on the ground before looking at Catra and Adora. “I think it’s time to go.”

The three of them ran for the far doors of the station and out into the city of Exodus.


	12. Chapter 12

Chinara hadn’t thought she retained any of her softer, more useless feelings, but when she had seen the Elder again, she felt a pang of nostalgia. Catra had just left to find Adora, leaving Chinara alone with Elder in the hall near the lab. The Elder had always been kind to Chinara. When she was young, he had laid a hand on her head and told her she was smart and brave. The touch was purposeless, stupid by her people’s standards, and Chinara had been so happy her eyes had filled with tears. Compliments had been almost as rare as affection in the Spire, and she had treasured both. She hadn’t realized how closely she had clung to the memory until she saw him again.

Chinara tried to dispel the last vestiges of these useless feelings. Chinara eyed the Elder warily. He was working with her parents. His kind eyes did not mean he cared about Chinara, or ever had. She wondered if she should restrain him if he tried to flee. She wondered if she was physically capable of it.

She was trying to flex a bicep inconspicuously—she had never thought much about the need for physical strength—when the Elder smiled.

“Chinara, I’m not going to run.” He chuckled. “You’re right in the middle of this mess now, aren’t you?”

“My mother’s wrong, Elder,” she said firmly. “She thinks Zilharr is lost. I’m not betraying Zilharr. I’m trying to save us.”

“I know,” the Elder said.

Chinara frowned. “You know?”

“I was with their She-Ra.” The Elder ran a hand along his throat, and Chinara remembered Catra throwing him against the wall a few minutes ago. She almost offered to find him a chair but then he said, “I offered her the magic.”

Chinara sighed heavily, her words bitter. “So you knew too. That we’re using the corrupted magic. You’re a _scientist_. You know exactly how bad the corruption is. I thought you were—” _Better. Kind. On my side._ She closed her eyes for a moment and summoned her hate. She didn’t want to cry.

“I know none of it makes sense right now,” he said, “but it will.”

“I might not know as much as you, Elder,” Chinara said, “but I know enough to know that this is wrong. And it won’t help us, either. This will ruin everything.” She looked away from him and let her anger keep her strong.

Chinara heard the clattering of guards a few moments later. She jogged toward the lab. It didn’t matter who the Elder told now. She was surprised when the Elder followed her. That didn’t matter either. They found the lab empty, and Chinara was both relieved and annoyed. Of course Catra and Adora left without her. Chinara wondered if Koldo would leave without her, too, despite his earlier affection.

She sat at a bench for a moment, lost in her own home. What was the point of fighting this fight? No one was on her side. The Etherians had abandoned her, her own people had lied and manipulated her, and the people who she wanted to help—the people of Satellite—certainly hated her. She knew they hated everyone in the Spire.

The Elder approached her then. He was holding a silvery shard in his hand. It glowed faintly. His expression was ecstatic. They both heard that the guards were close.

“You were always strong,” he said. “Give this to She-Ra. It will make her strong, too.” He pressed the shard into Chinara’s palm, folding her fingers closed over top of it, pressing both his hands to hers. His skin was warm and dry. “Scientists have to get close to their subjects of study,” he said. “Chinara, if you stay away from what you don’t know, you will never understand it.”

Chinara hid the shard in a pocket at her waist before the guards entered.

* * *

“What did she mean, ‘pick us up?’” Glimmer demanded, not for the first time. She was angrily flinging ration bars into boxes under the pretext of sorting them, giving into the old feeling of wanting to strangle Catra. This time, however, the feeling was tinged with worry and fear. She knew it had actually been Catra’s way of saying, “Help.”

Bow shook his head and continued scrolling through some menu at one of the panels. Glimmer doubted that he understood what he was looking at, but she understood the urge to keep her hands busy. They were in the control room of the ship, waiting for Koldo to finish the last preparations for flying. They had gone to join him, but he finally told them that their incompetence was more hindrance than help. Glimmer found herself much more wounded by Koldo’s snubs than Chinara’s. Glimmer suspected that Chinara meant to offend them and Koldo was just being honest.

“I don’t know,” Bow said, “but I think she was serious. Benat was yelling in the background. They must not be able to get away on their own.”

Koldo re-entered the control room. “We’re good to go. Probably.” He rubbed his hands together. “Unless I’m forgetting something Chinara usually does.”

Glimmer noticed Fae was oddly quiet, sitting against the wall near Glimmer with her knees pulled up. She was supposed to be tidying the ration bars in the boxes after Glimmer threw them in, but she had long since stopped pretending to do even that. “Will you help us get them out?” she asked Fae.

“I’m not afraid,” Fae said, jutting her chin out, but she met Glimmer’s eyes with her own, clear and steady, and Glimmer knew she meant it.

“Thank you,” Glimmer said, hoping Fae understood how much she meant it, too.

Glimmer turned to Koldo. “You know how to drive this thing, right?”

“Yeah,” Koldo said. “I mean, I’ve seen Chinara pilot a bunch of times.”

“That’s not the same at all, but I’ll take it,” Glimmer said. “I guess. Because we have to.” She turned to Bow. “We can do this.”

He tilted his head. “How, though? It’s not like we can take the elevator.” He turned to Koldo. “There isn’t like… a ship lane? To enter Exodus?”

Koldo opened his mouth, then shut it. “I really wish I knew the answer, but you know today was the first time I’ve actually been to Exodus, right?”

Glimmer looked at Bow. “We could just like—” She made an exploding gesture. “Blast through.”

Bow rolled his eyes. “Catra’s a bad influence on you.” His face cleared. “By the way, she told me to tell you that you lost the bet.”

Glimmer laughed and looked at Fae automatically.

“What?” Fae said.

“Nothing, nothing,” Glimmer said. She looked at Bow. “I’ll tell you later. But I still think Catra’s wrong.” She laughed again, and sighed, as she thought of where Catra and Adora were now. “Let’s just leave the hangar, fly down to the base and find an entrance there.”

“All the entrances are blocked by barriers,” Koldo said, as he not-so-subtly pushed Bow out of the way so he could adjust something on a control panel himself. “I can get through some of the doorway-sized barriers, but not those. No way. They’re strong, nothing can get through them. Someone would have to open them from inside.”

“Gah!” Glimmer said, and threw a ration bar at the wall, close enough to Fae to make her startle. “Maybe we just have to go in on foot and get them. I mean, it’s not like we even have anything to blast through with.”

“Oh,” Koldo said, “well we have some explosives, if that’s what you mean.”

“There are explosives on the ship?” Bow said, eyes wide. “Like right now?”

“Why wouldn’t there be explosives on the ship?” Fae said. "Do you guys not have explosives? How did you ever win a battle?"

Glimmer ignored this. “Where are they?” she asked Koldo.

Fifteen minutes later, they were ready. Or, as Koldo insisted on putting it, they still had a chance.

“I can’t believe we’re actually gunna blow it up,” Glimmer said, gleeful. “Catra will be so mad she isn’t here for it.”

“Well you know what, I don’t think that’ll be a problem,” Bow said, his voice high with stress. “Since she’ll get a front-row view of the explosion. Like when we blow her up by accident.”

“I’m pretty sure these explosives aren’t that strong,” Koldo said. “Like eighty… seventy percent sure. And, although I don’t know much about Exodus, I do know a lot about the Spire. The elevator bank that reaches the station is all technically part of it, which is heavily reinforced. I don’t think we’ll do any structural damage beyond the elevator shaft.”

“We’ll get a message through to them before we detonate,” Glimmer said. She grabbed the tracker pad from Bow and tried calling Catra again, but still nothing. “I’ll keep trying. Anyway, it’ll take us a few minutes to place the bombs. Get us closer, Koldo?” she said to him.

He nodded and sat in the pilot’s chair. A set of controls rose up from the floor at his feet. His flying was gentle until they got close to the elevator bank and his landing sent them all to the floor.

“Sorry,” he said. “I was always better at take-off.”

“Yeah,” Fae said, “maybe you should quit while you’re ahead.”

Koldo threw her a pained look, but then his face cleared. “Wait, am I ahead now, or…?”

“It’s fine,” Glimmer said, cutting that conversation off before it deteriorated further. She picked up the crate of explosives. “Let’s get our friends before they do something stupid.”

* * *

Catra was beginning to question the strategic efficacy of her plan. She, Adora, and Chinara left the station to enter a large raised area lined by vendor booths. The street was oddly quiet, with only a few people nearby, although more and more were appearing to prepare their stands or unhitch their bikes from racks at the bottom of the platform stairs. Catra wondered if it was early morning for them. She wondered if they could make their way around the station and back up to the elevator bank from there. She wondered if she should have given better—well, any kind of really—directions to Bow on the call.

Catra was making vague plans for them all to disguise themselves and get lost in the rapidly growing crowds when she saw several guards approaching from the street on their left. They pointed at Catra and began rushing over to them.

Catra spun to search for another way out only to find Adora on her right, saying, “Not that way.” She pointed a thumb over her shoulder to where another group of guards were approaching.

“Oh, great,” Catra said, letting her claws extend as she accepted that they were surrounded. “Hey,” she said to Chinara, standing awkwardly and wide-eyed. “Hide. Be ready to run.” Chinara scurried off to hide in one of the unoccupied booths.

Adora was spinning around in circles, and Catra was just about to make a comment about broken bots and blondes when Adora stopped spinning. She jogged to one of the small stalls and yanked a pole from the side. The booth collapsed, but Adora dodged away and jogged back near Catra, so they were each defending opposite sides of the platform. The booths were simple, and pragmatic, without even tarps to cover them. Catra supposed you didn’t need coverings in a spaceship city. She was glad, as it at least allowed for some visibility beyond the platform. Even so, all the guards had to do was crouch behind the metal structures and they would be hidden.

“Been awhile,” Adora said, smirking, twirling the pole in her hands. Catra knew she was gauging its weight and balance, how she would have to adjust her technique to its form. Catra smiled. Adora was always adapting.

“Since you destroyed some poor guy’s shop?” Catra said.

The two of them were moving side to side, backs to each other, teen feet between them. They had gotten into formation without discussion or thought. They were starting to draw the attention of the quickly growing crowds. A group of kids watched from storefront windows, an old lady sipped tea from a balcony, teenagers stopped their bikes and chattered. They were tense, expectant, but not shocked. This wasn’t the first time these people had witnessed an altercation with Spire guards.

“I know!” Adora said. “I feel so bad, but—” Adora turned to glare when Catra started laughing. “Not that! Since we were actually, you know, fighting together. And not each other.”

“You love this, don’t you?” Catra said, because _she_ loved this. The thrill of a straightforward fight, Adora by her side, the two of them in rhythm.

“I mean I don’t _want_ to fight them,” Adora said.

Catra made an incredulous noise in her throat and leaped on the first guard who passed the line of vendor booths on the platform. He raised his taser, but she twisted his wrist, letting him tase himself in the side.

Catra glanced behind her to see Adora whacking another guard between his shoulder blades, sending him to the ground. Adora grinned. She blew the piece of hair that had escaped her ponytail out of her eyes. “Okay, yes, I love this,” Adora said.

Catra spotted a guard approaching Adora from behind. Catra grabbed the pole in Adora’s hands and jutted the end upward into his face. “Don’t get too distracted, princess.” She stuck her tongue out at Adora, and relinquished the pole.

Adora scrunched up her nose, but then her eyes went wide. “Duck!” she yelled.

Catra did not duck, but Adora stepped out to her side and swung the pole around Catra’s shoulder in time to deflect a metal arrow from finding its mark in Catra’s back.

“What was that you were saying?” Adora said, still trying to be funny, but the humor was lost in her breathless voice.

Another metal arrow flew toward Catra. She hit it out of the air with her claws, but she hadn’t seen the source of it. _Not good_ , she thought.

“They’re set up behind the booths,” Adora said as she blocked another charging guard.

Catra and Adora disarmed and disabled the remaining two guards on the dais, but they were caught. They couldn’t see the line of archers beyond the row of booths, and they couldn’t defend against what they didn’t know. There might have been five archers or twenty. They moved back to back in a slow spin as another volley of metal arrows fell. They dodged them, but not without effort, and Catra felt the first signs of fatigue. Catra caught movement from the gap between the canvas of two tents. More guards. An even larger contingent this time.

“Catra,” Adora said. Her back was pressed up against Catra’s now. Catra could feel her chest heave. They needed to run. Catra was about to say as much when Adora said, “I have to, I’m sorry.”

Catra understood what she was going to do a moment before Adora yelled, “For the honor of Grayskull!” She-Ra summoned the sword and sent a shock wave radiating out from the two of them, causing damage all along the perimeter of the platform. The cement cracked beneath their feet. Catra didn’t realize she was waiting for something to happen to Adora until she caught herself staring up at She-Ra, literally radiating power and health. Catra was too relieved to be annoyed.

She-Ra gave her a look like she was bracing for Catra to be mad, but all She-Ra said was, “Aren’t Bow and Glimmer supposed to be coming to pick us up?”

“What?” Catra said. “She-Ra can’t fly us to the ship?”

She-Ra cocked her head, considering. 

“I’m kidding!” Catra said, elbowing her reflexively even though it only hit She-Ra’s thigh. Catra brought out the tracker pad from her pocket. “Wow.”

“What?”

“If it wasn’t so needy, I’d be flattered,” Catra said, noting the number of times they’d tried to call. Catra tapped the call back button and got Glimmer. “Sparkles,” she said. “Seventeen missed calls? Clingy, much?”

“Catra!” Glimmer said happily. “Where are—is that She-Ra?” she said, peering at the screen where she-Ra was looming over Catra’s shoulder. She-Ra had moved in front of Catra on the dais to block another round of metal arrows flying at them.

“No, I found another magical blonde,” Catra said, ducking as she heard the whoosh of more arrows. And also because of the sharp pain in her stomach. “Where are you?”

“We have a plan,” Glimmer said, “but you guys need to get away from the train station. We have to blow up the elevator shaft to get to you.”

“What!” Catra wailed. “You’re going to blow stuff up without me?”

Glimmer winked. “I’ll let you know how it is. But seriously, get everyone away from the station. It should stay intact, but the glass will probably blow out. And anyway we’re relying on Koldo who’s only ninety percent this will work.”

Catra heard Koldo say, “I said seventy percent.”

“Got it,” Catra said, watching She-Ra react to another round of guards try to crawl their way through the crumble of steps around them. “We’ll be out in the street. Hurry up, okay?”

Catra disconnected and pocketed the tracker pad. Chinara ran over to them, seeing that She-Ra had temporarily halted the barrage. Chinara gaped at She-Ra. “Whoa,” she said.

Catra swatted a hand in She-Ra’s direction. “Yeah, she’s tall, whatever. Listen we have to get away from the station. They’re gunna blow it up.”

Chinara was still staring up at She-Ra. _Ogling_ , Catra thought. “Fine,” Catra said. “Stay here instead, and you’ll get blown up.”

Chinara blinked slowly, head swiveling around to Catra. “Blow up? They’re going to blow up my—?” She shook her head and focused on Catra. She looked determined. “Where do we go?”

“Come on.” Catra moved to She-Ra’s side. “Hey, blondie. We gotta move.”

“What?” She-Ra said, sending another targeted wave of magic to a group of guards. “Where?”

“Sparkles is blowing up the train station,” Catra said.

“What!” She-Ra said, but immediately began to lead them through a path she had cleared into the street.

On the other side of the booths, Catra saw that there were even more people around now, enthralled by the sight of She-Ra battling the guards single-handedly. “Hey!” she yelled at the encroaching crowds. “Get outta here! It’s dangerous!”

One young-looking woman finally responded to Catra, saying, “We can’t get far. They raised barriers all around the block here.”

Catra remembered that she still had the barrier key in her pocket and gave it to the woman. “You know what this is?” she said, raising it. The woman nodded, so Catra gave it to her. “Open all the barriers, get people out. Away from the station, okay?”

Catra turned away, but the woman caught her arm. “Thank you,” she said.

“Yeah.” Catra shook off the woman’s hand. “Whatever.”

“She-Ra,” came a commanding voice Catra was beginning to know well. “You’re making a big mistake.”

Catra had to admit, Izar was no coward. Izar was standing, alone, in the middle of the platform Catra, Adora, and Chinara had just vacated. Izar looked rough. A black eye was forming, blood dribbled from a cut on her lip, and yet she stood tall, her voice clear and loud. Her effect on the crowds was immediate—they scattered.

She-Ra had led Catra and Chinara to the opposite side of the street in front of a row of shops. Catra noticed the kids were still pressed up against the windows, their little fingers flattened on the glass. They seemed completely undeterred by Izar as they stared at She-Ra in awe. “Leave!” Catra snarled, pleased to see the closest ones obey.

“You’re the one who made a big mistake,” She-Ra said to Izar. “Please, get your people out of here before anyone else has to get hurt. All we want to do is help you.”

The ends of Izar’s mouth curled up as she tilted her face upward. Catra followed her eyeline to see a small aircraft directly above where she, She-Ra, and Chinara were standing.

She-Ra just barely pulled Catra and Chinara in under her shield before the blast came. Catra thought She-Ra must have thrown the bomb itself away, because although they were thrown to the ground, the three of them were all still together when Catra opened her eyes. A piece of debris stuck up out of the ground, obstructing Catra’s view of the street, but she recognized the store front behind them. Catra couldn’t hear anything when she finally sat up and found She-Ra looking over, saw her mouth move in what Catra guessed was, “Are you all right?” Catra nodded, but She-Ra lifted her up bodily and set her on her feet, looking her over. Catra scowled but She-Ra just smirked and kissed her cheek.

“I’ll check on Chinara,” She-Ra said. Catra could actually hear the words now even over the ringing in her ears from the explosion.

Catra leaned against the doorframe of the storefront, tried to get her bearings. She looked up, but didn’t see the aircraft. There was so must dust and smoke in the air that she couldn’t see far into the street. She couldn't see the platform, or Izar, at all.

Catra started to cough as the dust settled, bending over double, her eyes watering. When she straightened, she saw Chinara lying on her side, trying and failing to push herself further upright on her shaking arms. She-Ra took a knee beside her and laid a hand on Chinara’s shoulder. 

“Are you okay?” She-Ra said.

Chinara allowed She-Ra to pull her into a sitting position. Chinara’s eyes were glazed. A shallow cut appeared on her forehead, which was already swelling. Chinara slid a hand underneath her robe at her waist. “They’re going to kill us,” she said.

“We’ll get out of here,” She-Ra said, comforting. “Can you stand?” She stood, looking ready to sling Chinara over her shoulder if necessary.

Chinara shook her head, slow, and removed her hand from her robes. Catra saw a glint in her hand.

She-Ra was crouching down toward her again when Chinara stretched her hand out to She-Ra, the shard laid across her palm.

“No!” Catra yelled, propelling herself off the wall.

She-Ra flinched away from the shard in Chinara’s palm, but Chinara was too close. She fell forward on her knees, toppling She-Ra over from her crouch in the process. “We have to try!” Chinara yelled.

She-Ra raised a hand to deflect, and Chinara pressed the shard into She-Ra's palm.

Catra had almost reached them when the world went white.

Catra thought it was another bomb. Then she thought she was dead, because she was pretty sure her eyes were open, but everything was dark.

She decided death wouldn’t be so loud. Or painful. She could hear crowds moving, yelling. Soldiers moving. Her hearing hadn’t been affected this time. For a moment, she was back in the war, in some village with a name she couldn’t keep track of. There was pain at her side—a broken rib, maybe two.

The shard—Adora. She couldn’t see anything, not even her hand raised in front of her. The blast of light made it harder for her eyes to adjust. There must have been a physical blast, as well, because Catra was back on the pavement. But she knew Adora was close, had been almost an arm’s length away before everything went dark.

“Adora?” she tried to say, but it turned into a cough. More dust was in her lungs. She had to pause, turning over to hack into the ground. “Adora,” she said again, when she could, “where are you?”

But there was no response. Not even coughing, or movement nearby, although she was realizing there was quite a bit of movement outside of their circle. She could feel the rumbling, like machinery moving. They needed to move. Catra crawled across the crumbled cement and debris, searching with her fingertips. She found Adora’s sleeve first, her fingertips caught in the slits near her shoulder. Adora must have transformed back.

“Adora?” she said, more insistent. Catra shook her arm, trying to see her through touch. Catra could still see nothing but the weirdly colorful afterimages, as if she were looking at the backs of her eyelids. She was running her hands all over Adora’s shoulders, down her torso, her stomach, before she realized she was looking for wounds. She didn’t feel anything serious.

“Adora, wake up!” she said, sounding angry, her own words bringing her back to the Heart, a feeling in her stomach sharper than the magic. She wouldn’t feel Adora’s internal injuries. Catra thought of head wounds and her hands flew to Adora’s skull, smoothing over the top of it, lifting her head up to feel the base, but it was intact.

Catra ran her hands down to Adora’s neck. Her pulse was faint, steady. She leaned over, put her ear to Adora’s mouth. She was breathing, too. Catra laid a hand on her chest, lightly, felt the rise and fall of her breaths, tried to steady herself. _Why wouldn’t she wake up?_ She ran her hands over Adora’s face, like that might rouse her. Catra realized she was saying it, over and over. _Wake up, wake up, wake up._

Catra was just beginning to make out the contours of the darkness beyond them when there was another blast. She felt the shaking under the pads of her feet before she heard a low, creaking series of explosions. Then she heard glass shattering and curled herself around Adora’s head, trying to protect them both.

Catra looked up to see lights swinging through the tall windows of the station. The light flashed across another aircraft, a broken bottle on the ground, the red of Adora’s boot. The darkness returned, and then the outer wall of the train station was a perfect silhouette as all its windows blared white light. Catra was mesmerized as the image held for a few long moments, and then the entire wall collapsed. A hulking, metal structure nosed through the rubble.

Reality reasserted itself to Catra, like her vision did, in clear but limited flares of light. Chinara. Chinara had given Adora the shard. Catra peered around them, able to see shapes emerging, looming and twisted, appearing and disappearing as the lights swooped over everything. She saw glitter covering Adora’s legs, until she realized it was broken glass from the shop behind them. Chinara, not a foot away at Adora’s other side. Chinara was rolling over on her elbows, body wracked with coughing.

Catra had a brief, vibrant vision of slashing Chinara’s face to ribbons, but she’d have to put Adora down to do it, and the one thought she was sure of was that they needed to leave. The ship, she realized, is Glimmer and Bow. It was the slowness of the thought that made Catra realize she had a concussion. So she was not as concerned as she might have been when she tried to stand up, pulling Adora’s torso with her, and nearly vomited all over her. She lowered Adora back down so she could turn away and retch. She could dimly hear the spaceship whirring nearby. _C’mon, Sparkles,_ she thought.

She twisted back around after her stomach was empty, wiping her mouth with the back of a shaking hand, to see Chinara kneeling on the other side of Adora, peering down at her.

Catra reached for the stun gun at her belt, but it must have fallen out during—one of the explosions. “Leave,” Catra said, the word guttural, the venom tempered by her panic.

Chinara flinched and fell back. She caught herself with her hands. “I didn’t mean to hurt her.” Tears were falling down her face, leaving tracks across the dust on her cheeks.

“Catra!” she heard Glimmer’s voice, finally.

“Here!” Catra called back. Catra hadn’t realized till then, as it cleared, how much dust and smoke hung in the air. Now that it was finally receding, the lights of the spaceship were blinding. Catra hissed and raised a hand.

All at once Glimmer and Bow were there, both of their faces panicked when they saw Adora on the ground.

“She’s—breathing,” Catra said, standing up and pulling Adora by the shoulders. She tried to pick up Adora’s legs, but the soreness at her ribs intensified into an unbearable pain when she did, and she had to stand up, breathing through her teeth.

Bow was there at Adora’s feet. “I got her!” he yelled and lifted her legs. Catra held Adora by her shoulders and they walked her to the ramp of the ship. Catra watched Koldo run past them to help Chinara.

“Leave her!” Catra yelled, toward Koldo. Glimmer looked at Catra in confusion. “Chinara,” Catra said. “She did this.”

Glimmer’s frown deepened, but Koldo had heard them. “She wouldn’t!” he said. Chinara was still crying, but upright now, allowing Koldo to drag her behind him. “I won’t leave her,” Koldo said.

Another explosion sounded, close enough that Catra almost lost her grip on Adora. Catra decided she could throw Chinara out of the ship later and hurried her pace to match Bow. They walked into the hull and Bow helped lower Adora onto the pillows they had left some hours before.

“I have to help with the ship,” Bow said, squeezing Catra’s shoulder. “I’ll be back. We’ll watch Chinara, okay?”

Catra just nodded. Her limbs were stiff and shaking. The fingers of her left hand were tingling as if they’d been asleep. She heard Bow and the others clamber up the ladder back to the main part of the ship. She wanted to lean Adora up so she could hold her, but Catra thought about internal injuries again, and knew she shouldn’t move her. What would they do if Adora was seriously hurt?

Catra settled for holding Adora’s hand, but saw that her palm was burned. The wound was a rectangle, raw and red. A yellowy, wet splotch had formed at the base of her thumb. Catra let out a cry in sympathy. She realized Adora hadn’t reacted at all when Catra touched the burn, not even a hitch in her breathing. The wound was bad enough that Catra was scared a bandage would aggravate it. Catra bent Adora’s arm so that her burned palm would lie upright on her own stomach. Catra curled herself into Adora’s side and tried to think of new ways to beg her to wake up. Catra held them in place as the ship lurched away from Satellite. She hoped the whole place collapsed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The girls! They are hurt! :'( Thanks as always to my sister who betas in record time! I love each and everyone one of your kudos & comments. Thank you for reading. Next chapter should be up in a few days.


	13. Chapter 13

Glimmer believed in diplomatic solutions. Her maturity and responsibility were, after all, vital to Bright Moon’s future. Glimmer would do everything she could to maintain peace in her kingdom, in Etheria, and across the universe. She was learning to forgive her enemies, and forge alliances wherever she could. She believed violence was a last resort. She knew that as queen, each of her individual actions were weighted with history and power in a way that her friends’ actions were not. Glimmer strove every day to be kinder, and wiser, and more patient. She wanted to be a better ruler and friend.

She still punched Chinara in the face. She did a poor job of it—her fist glanced across the taller woman’s cheek. There was no satisfaction, afterward. Chinara eyes were wide and she brought her own palm to her cheek. She looked scared.

Bow put a hand on Glimmer’s shoulder after Chinara left the control room. Glimmer hung her head. “I didn’t mean to do that, but she said it like—” Glimmer swallowed a sob.

Minutes earlier, they had confronted Chinara about what she knew about the shard and the corrupted magic. Glimmer had been determined to get the information they needed to take care of Adora. Catra had told them everything that had happened, but her understanding of the corrupted magic was limited to how she saw it affect Adora.

Glimmer and Bow found Chinara in the control room. The sparse, vivid beauty of the desert looked surreal behind Chinara’s intent form, bent over some kind of holographic map she had brought up from a control panel. Every time Glimmer had entered the control room since they had landed, the expanse through the glass startled and awed her. The sand was a deep sunset orange. The dunes, cresting out in every direction, looked smooth and soft. The sky was such a deep blue in the glare of the two bright suns that it was almost purple. Glimmer had the pleasant thought that it looked like a color-inverted sea at sunset. She felt both humbled and smug that they were the only ones in decades to lay eyes on this fierce, lost planet.

They were two hundred miles away from where they were supposed to have touched down on Zilharr. Their fuel reserves had run dangerously low. As Koldo had suspected, they did not have the correct combination of fuel types to travel further. Chinara said the journey across the desert would take a week.

Chinara answered their questions about the magic in curt, stilted phrases, never tearing her eyes away from the maps. She maintained that she knew nothing of the Spire’s use of the magic. She told them that she had trusted the Elder when he had told her that the shard could make Adora stronger. She told them she had been desperate. She had no idea why Adora was unconscious.

The word had made Glimmer flinch. Bow, Catra, and she kept saying “asleep.”

But it wasn’t until Glimmer asked Chinara why she forced the shard into Adora’s hand that Glimmer lost her composure.

“I told you,” Chinara said, spinning the directional view of a holographic mountain range with a quick hand gesture. “I was desperate. I was sure Mother would kill us all.”

“That’s not what I’m asking,” Glimmer said through her teeth. “I mean, why did you think it would work?”

Chinara looked up. “Because the Elder said it would.”

“But you just said he was working with your parents. Why did you think he was telling the truth?”

Chinara took a long breath. “He said it would make She-Ra stronger. I believed he really did think She-Ra was built to redirect the raw power of the magic, even corrupted.”

“She-Ra wasn’t built for you,” Glimmer said.

“I understand,” Chinara said, lowering her head so that Glimmer could see even the purple swirls at the top of her skull. “She was made for Etheria.”

That was when Glimmer punched her.

“She-Ra is our friend,” Glimmer said, tears falling. “Adora’s not a tool.”

Chinara looked lost when Glimmer met her eyes again, and Glimmer had the sense that she had never understood Chinara.

“I’ll accept whatever you decide to do with me,” Chinara said, and left the room.

Bow squeezed Glimmer’s shoulder, now, as Glimmer looked at her knuckles where bruises were surely forming. “I don’t think she ever had a friend in her life,” Bow said.

Glimmer suspected this was true—Bow was always right about things, especially when it was most inconvenient—but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

It had been thirty-two hours since they escaped Satellite, and Adora was still asleep.

It was soon after that the first of the storms began. Glimmer and Bow, eating tasteless porridge in the control room, had watched the storm approach from the horizon. From far away, it had seemed harmless. Glimmer had found the spectacle welcome, something to pass the time. Glimmer loved the lightening especially, the strikes branching out like veins across the dark storm cloud. But as the storm neared, growing in size and ferocity, it became clear that the murky whirl below the storm cloud was not just rain. It was, in fact, mostly sand.

When the storm hit, Chinara, Fae, and Koldo had all come to the control room to watch, too. But as the cloud enveloped them, the thunder so loud it rattled the fork Glimmer had left on the floor, they found there was nothing much left to watch. Sand and water flew around them, spitting on the glass, but they could see little more than a haze.

It passed over them within an hour, having done no serious damage to the ship.

“Storms here can last weeks,” Chinara said. “That was lucky.”

“I guess we were due some luck,” Glimmer said, wishing it had come to them in another form.

“We can’t stay here forever,” Chinara said.

Glimmer thought she should at least sound hesitant, if not repentant. “We’re not here on vacation,” Glimmer snapped.

She and Chinara were in the kitchen. Glimmer sat at the dining table, trying to make sense of Chinara’s crudely drawn map. Chinara said she had a journal of maps, but hadn’t found it in storage yet. Chinara was perched on the counter beside the sink. Her legs swung in the air as she explained what she knew of Zilharr’s geography, gesturing widely, eyes alight. She was clearly thrilled to have a captive audience. But Glimmer felt listless, her interest fading in and out. Their journey felt far off and unimportant before Adora woke up.

“The weather is clear.” Chinara hopped off the counter. Her cheek was faintly discolored. Glimmer tried to ignore the pang of guilt.

Chinara braced her hands on the table in front of Glimmer, conveying her seriousness, as if to a child who had never experienced danger. “If the stories are correct, this is a rare opportunity.”

“A rare opportunity for what?” It was Catra. She managed to look both sharp and disheveled, her eyes piercing blue and gold, her hair ridiculous, spiked out in every direction.

“Is everything okay?” Glimmer asked.

“The same,” Catra said, flicking her eyes to Glimmer. “Bow’s there.” She looked at Chinara. “An opportunity for what?”

“We’re in the Desert of Scars. Just five hours ago, when the storm cleared, the system was able to finish its triangulation of our location. Navigation is difficult on this part of the planet.” Chinara began pacing in front of the table, immersed in her own lecture. “I was always taught that certain minerals here interfered with our tech, but now I suspect that our system’s reliance on the corrupted magic—” She looked over at Catra to see her glaring.

Chinara cleared her throat. “Anyway. We’ve landed at the southwestern edge of the desert. We’ll have to cross nearly the entire desert to reach the tunnels. The sandstorms can go on for weeks here. We’ve been tracking the progression of Zilharr’s environmental collapse for years. These storms are so catastrophic that you can actually see them permanently alter the topography of the land while—”

“I don’t need a weather report,” Catra said. “How does this matter?”

Chinara threw her hands up. “We are in the middle of said desert,” she said, enunciating each word as if the problem was that Catra didn't understand what she was saying. “What I’m saying is that if we stay here through another storm—or, even worse, one of the famous quakes which cause the scars for which the desert is named—the desert itself might open up and swallow us whole. But I suppose that doesn’t concern you.”

Catra’s chest was heaving. “Do you remember what I told you?” she said to Chinara.

Chinara flinched. “I don’t know how to help her,” she said. “But we’ll all be dead if we—”

“If we what?” Catra said. “Leave Adora here to die?” She was in Chinara’s face before Glimmer had seen her move.

Glimmer was at Catra’s side, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Nobody’s going to leave—” Glimmer started, trying to be reassuring, when Catra flung Glimmer’s hand off of her, her claws raking across the top of Glimmer’s hand.

Catra took a step back from Glimmer, seeing the red lines on Glimmer’s hand. Catra’s eyes were shadowed and puffy. She looked exhausted and scared. “I’m—I’m sorry, Glimmer,” Catra said, hardly above a whisper. She left before Glimmer could respond.

Glimmer hissed as she looked at her hand. The scrapes were not deep, but blood was beading up at the edges.

Chinara was rummaging through a cabinet above the sink. She set a box on the table beside Glimmer and retrieved bandages and a tub of some kind. “May I?” she said, reaching for Glimmer’s hand.

“Now you know to ask for permission,” Glimmer said, eyes narrowed, but allowed Chinara to smooth ointment on her hand and affix the bandage.

“Thanks,” Glimmer said.

Chinara rolled the bandage cloth into a tight bundle and fit it back in the metal container. The box’s hinges squeaked as she closed it.

“She’s right,” Glimmer said. “The stuff about the desert doesn’t matter before Adora wakes up.”

Chinara shook her head. “We’ll all die if a major storm hits.”

“We’ll find another way,” Glimmer said. “We would never leave Adora.”

Chinara peered at Glimmer, her eyes sharp, searching. “I don’t understand. It wouldn’t help her.”

“Would you leave your brother?”

Chinara folded her arms. “I would do what was necessary. If I had to.” But she didn’t meet Glimmer’s eyes as she said it, and Glimmer didn’t know whether to believe that or not.

“I used to think like you,” Glimmer said. “I messed up really bad thinking like you.”

Chinara just kept looking at Glimmer, a stare that Glimmer found slightly uncomfortable. There were some moments when Chinara seemed almost friendly, and others when Glimmer was extremely aware of the fact that Chinara had spent most of her life in isolation. This was one of the latter. “I don’t understand,” Chinara said again, her voice almost pleading. “How you can—all of you—” She waved her hand toward the inside of the ship. “How can you live this way? How can you bear it?”

Glimmer frowned. “Bear what?”

But then Chinara’s eyes shuttered, she turned away. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

Glimmer entered Catra and Adora’s room. Adora was propped up on pillows, her hair down and around her face. Catra was carefully feeding her ice cubes from her perch beside Adora. Glimmer thought about how, even three months ago, she would never had believed Catra could be so gentle. This room was soft, as all the others, rich in reds and purples, the rug scarlet and gold. There was something about this ship that suited them where Bright Moon’s pastel majesty did not. Catra and Adora stuck out at Bright Moon, with their red uniforms and purposeful, military bearing. But the utilitarianism of the ship, softened by its sofas and tapestries, reminded Glimmer of her two friends, forced to grow up so hard and choosing to be more than what they were raised for.

Glimmer sat on the bed next to Catra and put a hand on her arm. “Hey,” she said. “How’s she doing?”

Catra didn’t respond. Glimmer figured that was response enough.

“Catra, how are you doing?” Glimmer said.

“Peachy.”

Glimmer sighed. “I meant your injuries.”

Once they had escaped Satellite, explosions still rocking the huge structure, Bow and Glimmer had returned to the hull to find Adora still asleep with Catra. They had brought Adora up on a stretcher, eventually, after they found no evidence of internal injuries they would exacerbate. The whole ordeal was much more difficult than Glimmer had anticipated and she had bitterly cursed her lack of teleportation powers. They were all so focused on Adora that it wasn’t until they got her settled on the bed that she noticed Catra holding her ribs, and she and Bow looked her over for injuries, too. They thought Catra had a concussion as well as broken ribs, but there wasn’t much they could do about either except make sure Catra didn’t aggravate them.

“My injuries are thriving,” Catra said, “I think this headache is going to take up permanent residence in my skull.”

“That’s good,” Glimmer said, “there’s nothing else up there, anyway.” She was silently relieved by Catra’s snark, a sure sign of a clear head if not improved spirits. She handed Catra a glass of water. “Drink this, at least.”

Catra glanced over, frowning, but accepted the glass and gulped it down. “Happy now?” she said.

“Thrilled.” Glimmer pulled her legs up on the bed and looked at Adora. Her hair was fanned around her head on the pillow, and Glimmer thought about how she had seen Adora with her hair down a handful of times. Glimmer had been so sure that Adora would be awake when she and Bow had first returned to the hull after they took off. They had seen Adora fatigued by magic so many times in the last several years. She’d thought this was the same. Part of Glimmer just wanted to shake Adora, sure she’d startle awake.

Glimmer noticed Catra looking at the bandage on her hand.

“Glimmer,” Catra started, “I—”

Glimmer reached out and squeezed Catra’s hand, fisted on her knee. “I know you didn’t mean to.”

“Hey,” Bow said, entering the room. He put a hand on Glimmer’s thigh when he sat next to her on the bed, and Glimmer gripped his fingers. She laughed, very quiet.

“We used to try to force her to sleep all the time,” Glimmer said. “It’s weird to try to get her to wake up.”

Catra swallowed. She put another ice cube in Adora’s mouth. “Adora’s timing is shit.” Catra sat back on her heels and looked at Glimmer and Bow. “Does she know anything?” she asked.

“No,” Glimmer said, while Bow said, “A little,” at the same time, both of them knowing she meant Chinara.

Bow sighed. “She said she really thought the Elder believed it would make She-Ra stronger.”

“Yes,” Catra hissed, “this looks like ‘stronger,’ doesn’t it?”

“Adora always said she was tired, after she used magic,” Bow said. “As She-Ra.”

“Tired,” Catra repeated, and the word was less scathing than sad.

Bow sighed. “I know.” He sighed. “Adora, it would be really great if you would wake up now.”

Glimmer laid her head on his shoulder.

There was a knock at the door, and Chinara stepped in the room.

“Get out,” Catra said.

“I had a thought,” Chinara said.

Glimmer thought it was a testament to how worried Catra was that she didn’t make a remark on that.

“You have the magic,” Chinara said, looking in Catra’s direction, but not meeting her eyes. “The only thing I know is that the vial’s magic is supposed to be able to heal the corruption. You should stay close to her. It might… help.”

“Is that it?” Catra said.

Chinara opened her mouth, like she was going to say something else. Glimmer noted that her eyes were puffy and red. Chinara left without another word.

“It makes sense,” Bow said. “That it could help.”

Catra put a hand to Adora’s forehead, like she could beam the magic into her, and it would have been funny under any other circumstance. Catra sighed, dropped her hand. “I’ve been with her the entire time.”

They all noticed the cup of ice on the bedside table rattling, first. The three of them stared at it for a moment, and then Glimmer and Bow were thrown to the floor as the ship shook. There was a metallic groaning sound as if the ship itself was voicing its protest. The glass of ice slid off the table and shattered spectacularly as it hit the bit of floor not covered by carpet. 

“Really!” Glimmer said, as the tremors slowed. “An earthquake? We don’t need any more problems!” Glimmer internally cursed Chinara for correctly predicting this.

She reached for Bow, helping him up. Catra was still on the bed, holding Adora down. “Did it stop?” Bow said. He was twirling around the room, looking up and down as if he could fight the earthquake when it came next.

“I think so,” Catra said.

“Stupid planet,” Glimmer said. She walked over to the small window—a little circle, the glass thick. The dunes outside looked the same as ever, but the wind was picking up, growing furious like it had during the last storm. Glimmer loved the way the wind grooved the sand, the ripples more like tree bark than water, but she was beginning to resent its relentless steadfastness. What could ever change here? What could ever matter to all that sand?

Adora looked the same as ever, no shift in her expression after the quake. “Let us know if…” Glimmer trailed off, not wanting to say what she was thinking, knowing Catra wasn’t going to listen anyway. “You know what? It doesn’t matter, we’ll be back.”

* * *

Adora had been asleep for forty-five hours when Catra returned to Chinara’s diary. Catra had found it again in the hull while they were fleeing Satellite. Before, finding the diary had been funny, a way to stave off boredom, make fun of Chinara. But now it was something else. Maybe it would be useful. Maybe it would be leverage.

Catra found the section of maps she had studied while she and Bow were waiting in the hull. Catra lay on the bed next to Adora, propped up on one elbow. Catra was starting to recognize that the maps all included the same range of mountains, what she thought was a desert. She knew from Glimmer they were in some desert now and figured this was it. There were little drawings—a lizard-type thing in a corner, three spotted circles at the top, and a pattern of arrows at the base of the mountain range.

One section included plans for a building. The blueprints for the small structure were on one double-page. A sketch of the outside on another. The building was small and pleasant. It looked like a dwelling for only a few people. Catra had seen individual homes like these at villages across Etheria. It had struck her as bizarre, at first, for families to live all alone like that. She had only lived inside the massive compound of the Fright Zone, then the maze of pristine hallways that was Bright Moon. But after the war she had traveled a little bit with Adora to various villages, and seen real families living in their homes. They made gardens and painted the outsides and it was… nice. There was infinite care taken with these drawings of this house in the same way. Chinara cared about this house. Catra stored the thought away.

Another section seemed to document an illness. There were pages and pages of notes, which Catra couldn’t make any sense of, but there were several pages of diagrams and drawings, too. Sketches of people with purple dots all along the sides of their necks. One sketch included a figure with a full head of hair, another sketch of what looked like the same person, pages later, with chunks of hair missing, eyes shadowed and dull.

Catra snapped the diary shut and threw it across the room. What the hell was _that_? Had they been experimenting on people? Poisoning them? Had _Chinara_? Catra scrambled over to Adora, checked her neck for the spots she had seen in the diary. She ran her hands through Adora’s loose hair, feeling her scalp. There were no spots, no chunks of hair missing.

Catra put her head in her hands. Why had she taken the vial? She should have convinced Adora to walk away from all of this. She knew Adora would go with her when she drank the magic. Catra had thought she was protecting Adora, doing nothing but hurting everyone around her. Hurting Adora worst of all.

Catra thought about that magic she had drunk, again, thought about Izar’s statement—clinical, an observation. _There’s not enough good within you_. Good. Catra had spent most of her life thinking about survival. Loyalty, sometimes, ambition at others. She never knew anything about morality. Nothing so theoretical could last in the Fright Zone. Catra had known only the brutal insistence of her boring, material needs. Now, she was learning of goodness in terms of what it wasn’t. It wasn’t manipulation, or lies, or violence. But how Izar said it, it was clear she saw goodness not as a negation but as a positive, substantive quality. Something you could have. Catra didn’t know much about that, except that Adora had always had it. Always looking out for her, even when Catra lashed out at her. Saving her, even after Catra had hurt her over and over. _I’ll be better_ , Catra thought, not sure if she was talking to the magic or to herself. _Adora will wake up, and I’ll do more. I’ll be good._

* * *

Glimmer and Bow were trying to track down Chinara when they found Fae and Koldo instead. They were in the kitchen, some red sauce splattered all over Fae’s arms, bits of it on Koldo’s face and scalp. Glimmer wondered vaguely where they had been holed up the past two days.

“What was that?” Fae demanded, accusatory.

“Why should I know?” Glimmer grumbled. She looked at Koldo. “Are earthquakes common here?”

He shrugged. “Sorry. I was never good at studying like Chinara.”

Glimmer let out all the air in her lungs in a big huff. “Do you know where she is?”

Koldo shook his head. “Sorry.”

Glimmer collapsed in a chair nearby. “Well aren’t you helpful.”

“We,” Fae said, grabbing a towel and rubbing the sauce off her arms, “have been trying to help She-Ra, because Koldo is too nice.”

“What do you mean?” Bow said.

“I thought,” Koldo started, hesitantly, “that we should get the magic as far away from her as possible. We moved all the containers to the other end of the hull. Her room is directly above where they’re usually stored.”

Glimmer lowered her head to the table. “That’s right,” she mumbled into the tabletop. “The fuel is the corrupted magic.” She straightened abruptly. “Does that mean—we all could be affected by it?”

Koldo shook his head. “I don’t know what to think. We were always taught to wear gloves and this sort of bib thing to handle the fuel. It’s just—what we were taught, I never thought anything of it. Apparently, the corrupted magic has been close my entire life. My mom—” He swallowed. “I wonder how long Izar had that shard on her. Chinara said she held it in her bare hand. If she had been living with…” He took a big breath. “The corruption. It brings suspicion, and anger, and bitterness. It’s probably been affecting us more than we knew.”

Glimmer heard Bow intake a breath sharply. “Glimmer!” he said, his voice wobbly.

“What?” She turned around to find his eyes watering.

“The other day, you asked me where the salt was, and I told you I was trying to sleep!”

“Uh, yeah?” Glimmer said.

“I was so mean to you!” Bow wrapped his arms around her head. “I’m sorry! The corruption got to me!” he cried.

“Bow,” Glimmer said, unable to decide whether to groan or laugh. She swatted at his arm so he would release her head. “You snapped at me because you were exhausted and I woke you up to ask you a stupid question.”

Fae threw a pot in the sink. “If this guy ever gets corrupted, we’re all screwed.”

Koldo had turned around to look through the galley window. “Oh, no.”

“What?” Fae said.

He was rubbing the window with his sleeve. He took a step back, and then ran out of the room. Fae followed, yelling after him. Glimmer looked at Bow, who shrugged, and they followed Fae and Koldo, too. Koldo skidded to a hault in the control room.

At first, Glimmer thought that some sort of blinds had been pulled down across the windows, blocking the view. She thought it was odd that the blinds didn’t reach the top of the windows, and seemed to be pulled up from the bottom.

“Sand,” Fae said, touching the glass at one side. She turned around. “We’re getting buried.”

It wasn’t until she said it that Glimmer understood what she was seeing—the sand piled up outside so far that they could barely see above it. They were inside one of the dunes, now. Glimmer felt like it was hard to breathe, told herself she was imagining it.

“Do we have any fuel left?” Bow said to Koldo.

“Maybe enough to get the engines started one more time,” Koldo said. “But after we deplete the last of the one type, we won’t be able to get them started again.”

Bow paced, up and down the length of the control room. “This storm could keep up for awhile. If we move now, we could just get buried again. We should hold off until it’s over, or…” He looked at Glimmer. Or until Adora woke up.

“So we have to wait,” Fae grumbled, folding her arms.

“So we have to wait,” Glimmer agreed unhappily. _Come on, Adora_ , she thought.

* * *

After fifty-two hours, Catra thought the word _coma_. Glimmer and Bow kept telling Catra to “give her time” as if Catra was the one choosing to give and take it, like all she had to do was give it to Adora and then everything would be fine, she would be fine. Catra would give Adora most anything she asked for, but Adora never asked for this.

Catra bargained for smaller things, now. A sound in her sleep. A thrash from a nightmare. A twitch in her fingers. She knew what Adora was like when she slept and it wasn’t like this. Adora moved, and talked and kicked off all her covers. She hadn’t done any of those things. Catra did not let herself think the words _brain damage_ , not when she had to take them seriously.

Catra fell asleep again for a few hours and woke up gasping for air, completely panicked, sure Adora had stopped breathing. But when she felt for Adora’s breaths again, they were there, same as always. Catra matched her own breathing to Adora’s, whispered to Adora to match Catra’s breaths, follow the inhales and exhales. But Catra knew. It was always she who followed Adora, not the other way around.

She couldn’t think past Adora sleeping, but she was thinking of it, anyway. What would happen if Adora didn’t wake up for another two days? What if she slept for a week? The storms were raging outside. The galley window was completely covered by sand.

She tried to think like Glimmer and Bow. She tried to remind herself that fifty-two hours was not such a very long time. She tried to believe that good things could happen, even though they were rare for Catra. She tried to believe she hadn’t run out her lien on good fortune.

Catra lifted one of Adora’s eyelids, like she used to do when they were kids. When they were kids, it would make Adora wake up. She’d say, “Good morning,” and Catra would say, “Maybe for you.” When Catra lifted her eyelid, Adora didn’t move, didn’t wake up and make the morning good. The white of her eye looked weird and sad and when Catra saw it she dropped Adora’s eyelid. “I’m tired of waiting,” she whispered to Adora, like she was running late for something. Adora didn’t respond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this took longer than expected! I had to do some more detailed outlining of this next section before I could post. Next chapter is actually mostly drafted so it should be up in a real few days lol. Thank you so much for reading! The kudos/ comments are all so appreciated. :)


	14. Chapter 14

Fae held the tray of food in one hand and used the other to fluff up her ponytail. This is stupid, she told herself. She knocked on Catra and Adora’s door. Fae let herself in when there was no answer.

“We made too much—” Fae started. She stopped when she saw Catra sleeping next to Adora. Adora looked the same as she had since they brought her in from Exodus. Pale and tired. Fae thought that was pretty much what she always looked like. Fae didn’t actually understand what the big deal was with She-Ra. She was impressive, sure. The muscles, the magic. But it wasn’t like Adora had done anything to become She-Ra. It had just happened to her.

Fae tip-toed across the room. She set the food on the bedside table. She slid the tray back further from the edge of the table, hitting a glass of water harder than she intended. She grimaced as it clanged and looked at Catra to see if she had woken up. Catra turned her head so that her face was visible to Fae, but Catra’s eyes remained closed, her breathing even. She was curled up so that her knees were almost touching her chest. Her tail was wrapped around Adora’s calf. She looked small and gentle.

Fae was having a hard time reconciling this vulnerable Catra to the one she had known. Second-in-command Catra, warrior Catra. The Catra who led charges and gave orders and demanded respect. This new Catra made Fae feel uncomfortable. Fae had already thought Catra was beautiful, but she had never thought of her as delicate. Fae found herself wondering why Catra had cut her hair. Fae had always liked the wild mane. It had seemed as unstoppable as Catra was.

One golden eye stared at Fae. “Gunna kill me in my sleep, pipsqueak?”

Fae was so startled she screamed, took a clumsy step backwards, and fell on the floor. When she pushed herself upright, Catra was laughing in long peals, sitting upright and holding her stomach. “Are you—sure—you grew up in the Horde?” Catra said, in between laughter.

“I wasn’t exactly expecting you to—to—”

“Catch you watching us sleep?” Catra said, eyes narrowed.

“I wasn’t _watching_ —” she spluttered. She stood up. “Think whatever you want. I just brought you food, because we had extra.” She turned to leave.

“Hold up,” Catra said.

Fae sighed, but she turned around. “What?”

“Why are you here?”

“I told you. There was extra.”

“No.” Catra swung her legs off the edge of the bed. “That’s not what I mean.”

“I told you all already,” Fae said.

Catra stared at her for so long that Fae shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Maybe sleeping Catra had looked vulnerable, but as soon as she had her eyes open, she wielded the same commanding energy Fae knew well from the Fright Zone. Fae had always wanted that energy directed at her. Now that Fae had it, she felt only weak and unimportant. Catra looked at the dish on the table and peeled the film back. “Did you poison this?”

“I don’t hate you _that_ much,” Fae said.

Catra snorted. She smelled the dish, shrugged, and picked up the platter. She brought it over to a sofa at the other side of the room. “Better than ration bars,” she said.

“Okay,” Fae said, “well.” She turned to leave.

“Come on,” Catra said. “You can at least tell me. Since you woke me up.”

Fae stood in place for a moment, considering.

Catra looked up at her again, raised an eyebrow. “Are you scared of me?” she said, incredulous.

“No!” Fae said, and strode over, throwing herself on the couch and sinking into it. “Wow, this is amazing.” She let her head fall back for a moment. Her life had been so devoid of such creature comforts. Even more so, in the weeks after the war.

Catra curled her lip in disapproval—whether at Fae’s sentiment or at the food, Fae wasn’t sure—and popped a potato wedge in her mouth. “So,” she said, chewing. “Come on. Right now, you’re a good distraction. Talk.”

“Why did you cut your hair?” Fae said without thinking, her heart constricting at the “good distraction” label. “She-Ra liked it better?” she said, heavy on the disdain.

Catra swallowed her food, expression bemused. “You’re asking about my hair?”

“I’m just making conversation,” Fae said.

Catra laughed, shook her head. “No, I didn’t cut my hair for ‘She-Ra,’” she said, mocking Fae’s tone. “For real. You snuck on this ship for some reason.”

“I told you,” Fae said, through her teeth. “I had to do something. The Queen wasn’t taking our demands seriously. Do you have any idea how hard it is in the Fright Zone right now? We can barely get everybody fed. Forget about rebuilding, strengthening our defenses. And she wants us to give up everything! Lots of us sleep in old tanks at night. And she’s acting like she’s worried about us launching an attack! It’s not like you’d know, but the Fright Zone’s a mess. There was some kind of battle around when you left. Some of it’s still collapsing. But Bright Moon demanded we give up _everything_. We don’t have anything to give up.” Fae felt herself growing more and more upset while she talked, but she couldn’t stop. It was the first time she’d laid out their situation in such plain terms.

Catra was studiously looking at the wall above Fae’s head. “Did you—I don’t know, explain this? To Glimmer?”

“We told her it was impossible,” Fae said.

“But not why?” Catra said.

“Why should we have to explain ourselves to her?” Fae said. “To any of them? What have they ever done to help us?”

Catra was shaking her head. “I can’t believe this.” She finished off her plate and set it on the ground. She leveled a long look at Fae. “The princesses. They’re not what you think.”

Fae groaned. “I forgot you’re one of them now. Did they brainwash you or something? I can’t believe you’re just—doing whatever they want.”

Catra had a funny look on her face, far-off and intense. She scratched behind one of her ears. “Horde Prime cut my hair off.”

Fae stared. Whatever she had thought Catra was going to say next, it hadn’t been that.

“I guess so he could chip me,” she said, and even her sarcasm was soft, right then. Catra put a hand to the back of her neck.

“I didn’t know…” Fae said, “if that really happened or not. That you got chipped.” Catra gave her a questioning look, and Fae shrugged. “We just heard stories.”

Catra lifted one knee from the floor and hugged it to her chest. “They saved me from him. Adora, and Glimmer and Bow.” She looked at Fae. “Princesses.”

Fae had the sense Catra was trying to tell her something important with that. She guessed Catra wanted her to say, _Yeah, never mind, the princesses are great._ And Fae guessed they did save Catra. But what about the rest of them? What about Fae? “I’m sorry that happened,” Fae said. “Sounds like it sucked.”

Catra didn’t respond to that, but she took a big breath, and looked at Fae with resolve. “Glimmer didn’t understand the problem. With the tanks. I’ll talk to her.”

Fae nodded. Catra brough her other knee to her chest and wrapped herself into a ball, her tail curling around her feet. She was staring at Adora, lying motionless on the bed. “Is she…” Fae started. “Is anything different?”

“No,” Catra breathed. She looked miserable. 

“You could come back,” Fae said. “To the Fright Zone. I’ll explain to everybody what happened.”

“The Fright Zone?” Catra said, still looking over at Adora. “Why would I go back there?”

“Right.” Fae grabbed the dinner tray and walked toward the door. Why had she said that? She didn’t think that, didn’t want Catra to come take over again. Fae had it under control.

“Thanks,” Catra said. “For the food.”

Fae nodded, but Catra wasn’t looking at her.

Fae was washing up in the kitchen when the next of the tremors began. It wasn’t as bad this time. She wasn’t thrown to the ground. The plate on the table didn’t even fall.

Koldo stuck his head back in the kitchen. “You felt that?”

“Yup.” Fae slammed a clean pot on the counter next to the sink.

Koldo sat at the table. “Does your planet have earthquakes?”

Fae scrubbed a plate so hard she almost broke a nail. “I guess.”

“Are you upset?” Koldo said.

“No.” What was wrong with him, just asking something like that.

“You took the food to them?” Koldo said. “Adora’s still unconscious?”

“She-Ra has not awoken from her slumber,” Fae said, sounding nasty even to herself.

Koldo was running his hands over his smooth scalp. “Why did she do it?” he said, after several moments.

Fae had been thinking so intensely about Catra that she startled, as if Koldo could read her thoughts. “Do what?” she squeaked. Give up? On the Horde? On _her_?

“Give Adora the magic,” he said.

“Oh, you mean Chinara,” Fae said, laughing, her imagined problem of Koldo’s seeming inconsequential compared to her own furious thoughts. “What do you care?”

“We don’t even know if Adora will wake up, and my sister.” He sighed, shook his head. “I thought Chinara was different from Mom and Dad, but maybe she’s the same.”

Fae snorted. “Chinara was doing what she thought was best.”

“You’re defending her?” Koldo raised an eyebrow. “I mean, it took She-Ra down. Adora hasn’t even woken up. What if she doesn’t?”

“We don’t need She-Ra!” Fae said, slamming a cabinet shut.

Koldo stayed quiet, watching her.

Fae spun around. “Let’s leave. Right now.”

“What?”

“Let’s get your sister and go to the source ourselves.” Fae had been trying to pretend like being literally buried wasn’t getting to her, but she couldn’t stop thinking about it, the sand layered over their heads. Her head felt heavy, her lungs constricted. They were letting it happen. All because they were too scared to do anything without She-Ra.

Koldo laughed. “Come on, Fae.”

“I’m not kidding.”

He shook his head. “You know Catra has to be there. She took the vial. It’s the whole point.”

“We’ll get her to come with us. We’ll think of something,” Fae said, like she hadn’t gone over many scenarios for how to convince Catra to leave already. “You and Bow were already talking about how we’ll have to use the fuel to blast out of the sand soon, that the weight of the sand would be too heavy for even your propulsion systems.”

“Yeah,” Koldo said, “we will have to eventually, but that doesn’t mean—”

But Fae wasn’t done. “Her majesty the queen whatever can stay here with her other princess friend. The princesses can wait it out here while the rest of us actually get things done. Like always.”

“I don’t know much,” Koldo said, “but I know that’s not going to happen.”

“Fine,” Fae said, “whatever. Who cares about the source? Let’s just leave. Go—somewhere! There has to be somewhere good on this planet.”

Koldo didn’t respond to this at all. “Fae,” he said again, sounding sad. “You already knew all this.”

“Knew what?”

He just kept looking at her. She turned away. “You don’t know much,” she said, but it was without heat.

Chinara, Bow and Glimmer entered the kitchen shortly after.

“We need your vote,” Glimmer said without preamble.

“We’re democratic now?” Fae said.

Glimmer narrowed her eyes but didn’t say anything else. “Should we wait until the last moment to start the ship and rise to the surface, or should we be impatient and rash and move now, increasing our chances of being re-buried by the sand as the storm continues?”

“Glimmer,” Bow muttered, reproachful and putting a hand to his forehead.

“I see we have different definitions of the term ‘leading question,’” Chinara said, unamused.

“I’m laying the facts out as I see them,” Glimmer said.

“We are estimating both the power of our systems and the substantial weight of the sand above us,” Chinara said. “There are so many unknown factors that I can’t even begin to—” She took a breath. “Koldo, please explain to them why it would be wise to emerge now instead of waiting later, when it very well may be too late.”

Before Koldo could say anything, Fae said, “I agree. Let’s do it now.”

Koldo looked at Chinara first, then Fae. “I don’t want to live in fear anymore. We should wait.” He left without another word, and even Chinara surrendered to Glimmer after even her brother didn’t agree with her.

Fae went to the control room after the impromptu meeting dispersed. She was hoping she would find Chinara, or at least find some maps herself. Fae wanted a tangible plan. She wanted a way out. But all she found was sand. The control room was dark, too dark to look for maps. She didn’t even know where the light switch was. She had been avoiding the thought for days, for weeks, maybe for her whole life: she was trapped.

* * *

Catra hated the quakes. She hated most everything, right then, but the quakes were becoming a favored focus of her ire. She broke yet another glass when the last one hit, more from surprise than from the force of the tremor.

“This isn’t fair,” she said to Adora, surprising herself when she felt tears. She wiped them away. She couldn’t cry. Adora was just asleep.

Catra ran her hands through Adora’s hair. “I need you to wake up now,” she said, like she hadn’t already said it a million times.

Catra didn’t mean to fall asleep, but she woke up when something hit her in the side, hard. She had all but forgotten about her broken ribs, but there was no forgetting them now. She whimpered, breathing sharply. Adora was always so—

Catra bolted upright. Adora. Adora was moaning, thrashing around. Like—

Catra rolled over and held one of Adora’s legs with her own, pinned her arm down. “Adora?” she said, her voice hoarse, but hopeful. “Adora.” She squeezed her wrist where she gripped it. “Wake up.” Adora’s thrashing had ceased, but she was making low sounds, opening and closing her mouth, and Catra was sorry she had pinned her, sorry to keep her from moving, but then her eyes opened.

Her eyes, big and blue-gray and beautiful. She looked at Catra, but through her for a moment, like she wasn’t awake at all. But then she blinked, smiled a little. “Catra?” she said.

Or at least, Catra thought she said. Her voice was barely there at all, hoarse and raspy.

“Adora?” Catra whispered. “Are you—” She looked Adora over, again, like she had so many times the last days, trying to see whatever it was keeping Adora away.

Adora tried to talk again, scrunched her face up as she swallowed. It looked painful.

Catra reached for the water bottle on the bedside table with the straw. Adora tried to get up, but Catra pushed her back down and forced her to drink still mostly lying down, torso propped up by pillows.

Adora drank an entire bottle, and then another. She coughed as she finished the other, and Catra allowed her to sit up a little more to do it.

“I’m okay,” Adora said, voice still raspy, but perfectly understandable. “I’m okay.”

Catra sat back, watched Adora watching her. Adora was smiling a little, soft and drowsy like she was in the mornings. Catra burst into tears.

“Catra?” Adora said, reaching her un-bandaged hand out.

“You—feel—all right?” Catra said, her breath and words hitching with the force of her sobs. She couldn’t stop them.

“What’s wrong? What—?” Adora reached out, but Catra stopped her, made Adora lie back down on the pillows.

Catra wiped her eyes with the heels of her hands. “What do you care? You haven’t even been around.” She could hardly get the words out between sobs.

“Catra.” Adora reached out toward her again, and this time Catra leaned into it so Adora could touch her face without having to move. They stayed like that for a moment, Catra staring at Adora. She was really awake.

“How long was I out?” Adora said, her eyes flitting over Catra’s face. “Where are we?”

“In a spaceship.” Catra hiccupped. “Idiot.”

“That’s not what I…” Adora’s expression turned inward. She frowned, thinking. “Was I—?” Her eyes widened as she focused on Catra again. “What happened? Where are we? The—” She looked at her bandaged hand. “Chinara.”

“Yeah,” Catra said, “Chinara.” But even her rage at Chinara was inconsequential with Adora awake and alert. “You really feel okay?” But before Catra gave her a chance to answer, she had taken Adora’s face in her hands, watched Adora’s eyes try to focus up close. Then Catra pulled back, watched Adora’s eyes adjust again. Catra didn’t know what it accomplished, but she remembered the medics in the Fright Zone doing something similar.

Adora laughed, and Catra thought it had accomplished something after all. “I feel fine!” Adora said. “Really.”

“Yeah?” Catra said. “You should. You let us do all the work while you stayed in bed all day.” She wiped her tears away before they could fall off her chin.

“Actually,” Adora said, “I lied.”

“What!” Catra yelped.

“I’m _starving_.” Adora grinned, and Catra thought, _Her teeth are perfect_. And, _I love her._ It was still a surprise that a feeling like that could be hers.

Catra had brought as much food as she could carry, dumping it all on the bed. Catra sat on the mattress next to the pile of food, holding her knees, watching Adora eat.

“Adora, you’re disgusting,” she said happily, watching Adora spray bits of ration bars across the bed.

Adora made some unidentifiable sound, her cheeks bulging with food, but she didn’t even glare at Catra. She finally swallowed the food in her mouth and paused to look up, wiping the back of her mouth and holding her hand out.

Catra looked down at her outstretched hand. “What?”

“Water?”

Catra swatted at her hand. “Am I your servant now?”

Adora started leaning over the side of the bed to reach the water herself.

“Would you quit it?” Catra squealed in dismay, pushing Adora back down on the pillows gently.

Adora obeyed and held her hand out again, smirking this time.

Catra started handing her the water bottle, stopped, and unscrewed the cap. She handed the opened bottle to Adora. “Princess.”

Adora drank for a minute, stopped. “You’re not going to pour it for me? My arm’s tired.” She opened her mouth and waited.

Catra snatched the water bottle out of her hands as Adora giggled and made to pour it over Adora’s head. Adora reached up to block it with her bandaged hand and hissed, folding over at the waist, cradling it with her body.

“Shit!” Catra said, hands fluttering over the bandage. “Adora, I’m sorry.”

Adora grabbed Catra’s hand with her other one. “It’s okay.” She looked up after a moment, smiled. “It was my fault.”

Catra let her hand be held, and moved so she was sitting next to Adora, leaning on the pillows. Catra slid her arm around Adora’s shoulders. “It wasn’t, though.” She had replayed the scene of Chinara pressing the shard into Adora’s palm so many times that sometimes it felt like it was still happening.

“Are you going to tell me what happened now?” Adora said, soft.

Catra rested her elbow on Adora’s shoulder so she could reach down and play with hair, smoothing the light strands away from her face. It was really greasy—in fact, they both were incredibly grimy—and Catra didn’t care at all. She was so relieved Adora was awake that she didn’t have the capacity for another feeling.

“Is Chinara… uh… here?” Adora started. “Is the shard…?”

“Unfortunately, Chinara is here,” Catra said. “Not the shard. Bow and Glimmer searched her when she came on board. Nothing.” Catra’s fingers stilled on Adora’s scalp and found she did have one lingering worry. “Are you… feeling okay?”

Adora snorted. “Yes, Catra,” she said, making a show of being patient, “like I’ve said—”

“No, I mean, you’re not… mad?” _At me?_

Catra could see Adora’s brows pull together from her vantage point above her. “Oh. No, no. It doesn’t feel… like that.” 

Catra sighed, let her claws scratch Adora’s head carefully. “That’s lucky for you. You’re in a terrible position for hand-to-hand combat.”

Adora didn’t respond for several moments and Catra shifted her shoulders to see Adora’s face better. Adora’s eyes were closed, her mouth hanging open.

“Adora?” Catra said, shaking her.

Adora startled awake, eyes flying open. “Yeah?”

Catra swallowed. “You’re tired still?” She didn’t know if she could bear to let Adora fall asleep again.

Adora seemed to understand. “Help me up.”

When Catra did so, repositioning Adora so she was sitting on her own. They sat facing each other. Adora took a breath. “Okay, now tell me.”

So Catra did. When she had caught Adora up, she started realizing how hungry she herself was, started stuffing herself with ration bars almost as enthusiastically as Adora had. “These are way better than the Horde’s,” Catra said.

“So we’re how far away from the source?” Adora said.

“A week?” Catra said. “Maybe. She’s too creepy to listen to for long.”

“And how long was I asleep?”

“At least sixty-five hours,” Catra said.

Adora frowned, clearly doing the math for how many days that was, and Catra laughed, almost choking on the ration bar she had stuffed in her mouth.

“Almost three full days, dummy,” Catra said, after she swallowed.

Adora hardly spared her a frown. “We’re so behind,” she said, rubbing her eyes.

“Behind what?” Catra said, daring her to respond, knowing they were both thinking of Izar saying that Catra was corrupting the magic already. “We don’t have a timeline.”

“What Izar said, back there—” Adora started.

Catra stuffed the rest of her own ration bar in Adora’s mouth.

Adora spluttered, spewing crumbs everywhere.

“You should eat more,” Catra said, staring her down. There was no point talking about what Izar said. She was either right or she wasn’t.

Adora narrowed her eyes at Catra, but she didn’t pursue it. She ate the rest of the ration bar. “Where is everybody?” she said, mouth still full.

“Probably freaking out about the sand.” Catra shrugged.

“Sand?”

“Yeah, we’re buried.”

“What!”

Catra groaned and rubbed her eyes. “Fine, I’ll get them.”

“I still don’t understand how you forgot to mention that we are _buried_ in _sand_ ,” Adora said to Catra, not for the first time.

Glimmer and Bow, after throwing themselves on Adora and telling her how happy they were she was awake, filled Adora in on all the stuff Catra hadn’t been bothered to keep up with while Adora was asleep.

Catra was sitting at the foot of bed because Glimmer and Bow were still squishing Adora in from either side and taking Catra’s place. Catra squeezed Adora’s big toe between two fingers. “You felt that?” she said to Adora.

“Yes?” Adora said.

Catra shrugged. It was another thing she remembered the medics doing. “The sand is less annoying than the earthquakes.”

Glimmer squeezed Adora’s head in her arms. “I’m so glad you’re okay, but we really have to go now.”

Bow held both of them in a quick hug. “We have to get the ship going or we might be buried alive. I’m really happy you’re awake, Adora!”

They both hopped out of the bed and rushed out of the room.

“Buried alive?!” Adora said. She flipped the cover off of her and swung her legs onto the floor. She tried to stand up, but then sat back down heavily.

“Are you gunna dig us out yourself?” Catra said.

Adora swallowed. “I’m fine.”

“Uh-huh.”

Adora stood up again, and Catra saw her eyes glaze over. Catra jumped up and made her sit down again. “What the hell are you doing?” she said conversationally.

Adora furrowed her brows at her. “Shouldn’t we be—helping?”

“Are you a pilot now, too? They don’t need your help.”

Adora pulled a pitiful look. Catra took Adora’s face in her hands and kissed her, soft. Catra pulled back and rose, her hand held out to help Adora up. Adora still had her eyes closed. Catra leaned forward so their noses were almost touching. “What are you waiting for, Adora?”

Adora yelped and flinched back. Catra cackled. She held out her hand again. “Come on, let’s see what mess they’re getting us into now.”

Once Catra helped Adora down the hall and into the control room, the others were already gathered. Chinara knocked a control violently when she saw them. Koldo pushed Chinara’s hand away from the lever. Chinara’s anxiety gave Catra a brief but enjoyable moment of satisfaction.

Chinara tore her eyes away from Adora and re-focused on Koldo. “Are you ready? Only if I say.”

They powered up the thrusters one by one in quick succession. The ship remained motionless after they engaged the fourth thruster.

“You all should sit,” Chinara said. Everyone except Fae, quiet and squeezed into a corner, had been standing. But they all quickly took Chinara’s advice. “Fifth valve,” Chinara said.

Koldo pushed a lever and the ship lurched upward, only to halt a moment later. The thrusters whined and the floor shook beneath their feet.

“Steady!” Chinara yelled.

All at once the ship surged, bursting through the sand and into the air.

“Down five!” Chinara yelled, and then they slowed, gradually. She and Koldo brought them back down to the surface, or what Catra figured was the surface. The wind and sand obscured the lines of the desert.

“It’s still going,” Glimmer said.

“I told you,” Chinara said.

Glimmer made a face at Chinara. Glimmer turned to Catra and Adora. “We hoped… it had stopped.”

“The storm,” Adora said, eyes wide. “It’s not over.”

“Thanks, genius,” Catra said.

Adora knocked her shoulder with her own.

“It’ll be okay, it took a long time before,” Glimmer said, but she didn’t sound like she believed herself.

Bow put an arm around her waist.

They all looked out into the storm raging around them. The wind howled. Clots of sand spattered on the glass in sharp bursts. Adora found Catra’s hand and squeezed. Catra sighed, feeling numb. She knew she should be worried but she was exhausted by relief. Adora was okay. Nothing really bad could happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mean, it's much less of a cliffhanger this time, right? haha Thank you for reading- I'm so excited if you've gotten this far! I love reading the comments so much guys, thank you.


	15. Chapter 15

Adora woke up gasping. She had been dreaming she was alone in the ocean, struggling against the waves. Waking up was like breaking the surface of the water, a shock, lungs bursting. She was reaching for her dagger, her sword, something, when she felt Catra holding her arms down.

“Adora,” Catra said.

“What is it?” Adora said, her heart flying. “Catra?” It was pitch black in the room. Adora leaned over to turn the lamp on and Catra hissed. The spike of adrenaline made Adora feel both focused and numb; battle ready.

Catra’s face was scrunched up against the light, but she had fallen back on the bed once Adora was awake. “No, it’s nothing,” Catra said, looking away. “Everything’s fine, go back to sleep.” Catra grunted and clutched her stomach.

Adora raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, fine,” Catra said, petulant. “I woke you up.”

“Oh, okay,” Adora said, confused but mollified, accepting the lack of any imminent danger. She lay back on the bed. “Oh!” She sat back up again. “It’s okay.” She turned on her side to face Catra and smoothed the ruffled fur around Catra’s ears. “I feel totally fine now. It was normal sleep.”

Catra nodded under Adora’s hand and turned so she was lying on her back. Her tail was still ruffled from anxiety and even with her eyes closed, her face looked haggard with exhaustion. She was lying, tense and still, just far enough away that they weren’t touching. With Catra, stillness always meant something was wrong. Adora felt the old familiar ache—she couldn’t fix everything for Catra.

“I’m sorry,” Catra said, opening her eyes like she felt Adora watching her. “You need to rest.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Adora said, tracing one finger along Catra’s forearm. “I slept a lot.”

Catra pulled herself up so she was sitting. Adora waited, forcing herself not to voice the _What’s wrong?_ ringing in her head. Adora watched Catra, and all at once something in her face broke and she reached out, grasping Adora to her. Catra’s breath was warm and fast in the crook of Adora’s neck. They stayed like that for a long moment until Catra spoke.

“I shouldn’t have taken the vial,” Catra whispered. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Adora said, squeezing her tighter, surprised by the admission. She shifted her body on the bed so they were closer. “I know why you did.” Adora ran her hands up and down Catra’s back, still vibrating with anxious energy. “Don’t worry about what she said. We’ll figure it out. I promise.”

“No, that’s not what I mean.” Catra pulled back so they were face to face. “I knew this was wrong and I just—” She made a frustrated noise and pulled back. She flipped off the bed in one precise motion that Adora admired despite Catra’s obvious distress. Catra paced the room, once, twice. She turned back to Adora and crossed her arms across her chest. “We have to ditch Chinara.”

Adora took a big breath. “We need her.”

Catra’s claws flexed at her sides. “We don’t.”

“I agree we can’t trust her,” Adora started, “but she’s the only one who knows the way. We don’t know what we’re doing here.”

“Yeah, her advice is really going to help us,” Catra said, pacing again, “when we’re dead.”

“That won’t happen.” Adora sat up to face Catra at the edge of the mattress, feet planted on the floor. “We’ll watch her. Be more careful around her, we could even—”

Catra made a noise of frustration and increased her pace.

“She’s not good with people,” Adora said. “How she grew up, I don’t think she understands how to have friends. But if we just talk to her—”

Catra stopped her furious pacing. “Talk to her,” she said.

“Yeah,” Adora said.

“She could have killed you.” Catra swallowed.

“I really don’t think she meant—”

“Who cares what she _meant_ ,” Catra snarled.

“As long as all of us are careful around her, then—”

“Why won’t you listen to me?” Catra said, her voice both sharp and uneven. “You wouldn’t wake up for three days. She did that. And you keep defending her. Why won’t you trust _me_? Listen to _me_.” Everything about Catra seemed brittle, even her anger. She stared at Adora for a moment, and then shook herself, turning around.

“I do,” Adora said, a little desperate. She reached out, already standing up off the bed, but she stopped, sat down. She couldn’t force Catra to talk. She couldn’t force her to do anything. “I do trust you. Don’t go. Please.”

Catra rolled her shoulders, turning back around. “I wasn’t leaving.” She looked at Adora, her gaze furious and hurt, but there. Staying.

“Okay,” Adora said.

Catra stilled, a shocked excitement flitting across her features. “You’ll throw her out into the desert?”

Adora smiled at Catra’s obvious enthusiasm. “Well, no. But I’m listening.” Adora got up off the bed. “You’re right. I wasn’t. I’m sorry.” Adora took Catra’s hand and held it to her own chest, extremely relieved that Catra let her do it.

“She could have killed you,” Catra said, but her voice was soft and tense now, like she was saying more than what she was saying.

“Yeah.” Adora used to think she knew everything Catra was thinking, but she knew now she had never known. This fact scared her.

“She deserves to get thrown out into the desert,” Catra said.

Adora sighed. “Maybe we could talk to her before that.”

Catra huffed. “I know what you’re thinking.”

Adora startled at the echo of her own thoughts. “Oh, yeah?” she said, a dare. “What am I thinking?”

Catra pulled her hand away from Adora and flung herself on the bed. “That you should have thrown me out into the desert.”

Adora snorted. “Not in a million years.”

“Only because you’re actually stupid.” Catra grunted and pressed her arm into her middle from the pain.

“Wow,” Adora said, making the word several syllables. “If I had done that, Prime would have vaporized the universe.”

Catra propped herself up on her elbows to curl up her lip at Adora. But then she smirked. “I didn’t say the desert would have stopped _me_. The Crimson Waste didn’t.”

Adora laughed. “Then you shouldn’t have any trouble handling Chinara, huh?”

Catra frowned, distant again.

“We’ll be careful. We’ll watch her.” Adora sat on the bed next to Catra. “You’re right. We shouldn’t trust her.”

“I’m trying,” Catra whispered.

Adora found her hand and squeezed it. “I know.”

“But all of it,” Catra gestured with her hand, stopped, turned toward Adora on the bed. “None of it matters if you get hurt.”

Adora’s heart swooped. She never realized how much she had been missing in the Horde, without being able to name her feelings. Without hearing them stated back to her. She never dared to hope for something like this. “We’ll be careful.”

“We’re never careful.”

“We’ll stick together,” Adora amended.

Catra smiled, warm. Adora kissed her. She felt, all at once, every minute that this was impossible. She pulled Catra closer like she could erase all distance, anything that could keep them apart. There was a part of her that knew this was futile, but that had never stopped her before. Her hands pressed into Catra’s back, finding new shapes in the knobs of her spine. Adora thought it was okay she didn’t already know everything about her. Catra’s mouth found the underside of Adora’s jaw. Adora clutched at Catra’s waist. She felt hollowed out. There was room to want everything.

Catra hissed and pulled away, one hand flying to her ribs.

Adora blinked, dazed, and then concerned. “What is it? Did I—?”

“No, it’s—” Catra sighed. “Broken rib, I think.”

“What! I’m sorry.” Adora had disentangled herself from Catra completely, her hands hovering nervously near Catra’s torso. “The explosion. Before I was out,” she said, not really remembering it before that moment.

Catra nodded. “Hey,” she said, annoyed. She took Adora’s arms and wrapped them around herself again.

Adora held Catra gently for a second, pecked her on the lips, and then pulled back. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner!” She transformed into She-Ra over Catra’s sputtering.

“Adora!” Catra said, craning her neck look at She-Ra. “You’re not supposed to do that!”

“You’re hurt.” She-Ra put her hand on Catra’s ribs, her fingers running along the bone. “I can feel it,” she breathed. “Where it’s broken. There’s two of them. Your head, too,” she said, letting a hand drift to Catra’s forehead where there was bruising. She let the magic open up between them, flow from her into Catra. “I can feel—everywhere you’ve gotten hurt. There’s—there’s something else, too, if I can just find—” The magic glowed brighter.

Catra jerked away. “No. Stop it.”

“Why?”

“Because you just woke up from a stupid three-day coma! Because of _magic_.”

“That was the corrupted magic.” She-Ra laid her hand back on Catra’s ribs. “I’ll just do the ribs, okay?”

“Adora,” she whined.

But Catra didn’t move again as She-Ra laid her hand over the broken spot. She-Ra let the magic find the fractures and stitch the bones back together. Adora sighed, let She-Ra leave her again on the same breath. She felt like she just ran several miles, a healthy, useful exhaustion. “Better?”

Catra let out a big sigh that turned into a yell of frustration. “Yes! Are you happy now?”

“Yes,” Adora said. “It doesn’t hurt me, it’s nice. I want to make you feel better.”

“I do,” Catra said, grudgingly. “Feel better.”

Adora leaned in to kiss her again. Catra grinned against her lips and pulled away just enough to say, “Did you do that so you could kiss me again?”

“You wish.” Adora pushed her back on the bed.

Catra grinned wider. “Still seems like it.”

Adora straddled her. “This is a takedown maneuver.”

There was a knock at the door. They both groaned.

“People!” Glimmer said. “Are you awake?”

“No!” Catra said.

Adora giggled and lay beside her.

Glimmer walked in, sat next to Catra, and propped her legs up on Catra’s lap.

“I don’t think so,” Catra said, but made no move to push her off.

“I’m bored and I hate this desert already and we haven’t even started,” Glimmer said, groaning.

“My heart breaks for you, Sparkles,” Catra said.

“How is it out there?” Adora said.

“I haven’t looked, I just woke up,” Glimmer said, lifting her legs and letting them drop on Catra’s. “But you know what? I refuse to worry about some sand. We defeated Horde Prime. Sand won’t stop us.”

Adora laughed.

Glimmer looked at Catra. “Is Adora going to let us murder Chinara?”

“Glimmer!” Adora said, sitting up and glaring at them both.

Catra smirked at Adora. “She’s surprisingly bloodthirsty.” 

Another earthquake rocked the ship. This one was so strong that the three of them were knocked onto the floor into a pile of limbs. Somehow Catra ended up on top of both Adora and Glimmer, kneading into Glimmer’s calf and Adora’s shoulder.

Bow slid to a halt outside the door moments later. “Guys!” he said, voice squeaking. “We have a—” His eyes were wide. “Problem.”

* * *

Chinara hadn’t slept more than ten hours in the last three days, but she had not thought her fatigue would give way to outright hallucinations so soon. And yet, as the last of the tremors ended, she saw a row of scales, each one bigger than her body, press into the control room’s window and rise, sliding up along the glass.

She and Bow had been discussing the conditions they would face in the Desert of Scars a few minutes earlier when they moved to the control room to use more detailed maps and found—sand. The sand had piled to the tops of the windows once again.

“We’re dead,” Chinara said, oddly calm. She couldn’t summon more than a dull sense of fatality at this point.

“We’ll figure it out,” Bow said, confident.

He was brainstorming possible solutions—none of which sounded remotely plausible to Chinara—when the next earthquake struck. He left to tell his friends, and so of course, Chinara was the only one there to see—whatever it was she saw slide along the surface of her ship.

There were many stories of beasts in the Desert of Scars, but there was only one that could explain the size of the scales she had seen earlier. She had thought the Blue Tongues were myths, but apparently she was destined to be wrong about everything.

Before she could organize her thoughts—should she tell them? Would they even believe her if she attempted it? Did she believe herself? — when Bow returned to the control room with Glimmer, Adora, and Catra in tow.

The four of them stopped at the entrance to the room, staring at the walls of sand. It was already piled to the top of the windows.

“No!” Glimmer said, the first to break the shocked silence. “I refuse to be defeated by sand!” She twirled on Chinara, who was lurking silently in the back of the room. “Don’t say it!” She pointed a finger at her.

“Say what?” Chinara said weakly.

“That you said this would happen!” Glimmer said. “I don’t want to hear it!”

Chinara raised her shoulders nearly to her ears and returned to the panel in front of her. She was looking to see if she could get any readings on any massive beast that may or may not have just slithered by. But as she thought, the density of the sand made such readings difficult. She scanned the surface instead.

“Okay.” Adora tilted her head to the right, then left. She swung her arms. “She-Ra can make a path through the sand and then—”

“No!” Catra, Bow, and Glimmer all said at once.

“You just woke up,” Bow said.

“Can you chill for a second?” Glimmer said.

“I will throw _you_ out into the desert,” Catra said before hissing in pain when her stomach hurt.

“There’s some good news,” Chinara ventured in the tense silence that followed.

None of them responded.

“The storm has finally passed,” Chinara said. “Clear skies above.”

The four of them turned to stare at her.

“Your people find comfort in optimism, even when unfounded and irrelevant, right?” Chinara said. “So if we were at the surface—although we are not and have no reasonable expectation that we will reach it again—this would be good news.”

“I’m reconsidering,” Adora said to Catra.

The four of them were arguing amongst themselves when Chinara saw the line of scales return. They slid along the opposite side of the ship this time. One scale nearly spanned the entire height of the window. The scales were a pale, yellowish color, and each perfect rectangle fit into the next like massive blocks of stone. Chinara had the errant thought that they were surely gouging scratches into her windows.

“Space is the opposite of sand, Adora,” Glimmer was saying.

“No, it’s not, they’re both like—” Adora made an expansive gesture with her hands.

“Big?” Bow said.

Adora nodded.

“Let me get this straight,” Catra said. “You think that would work because She-Ra is also…” Catra closed her eyes and folded her hands together as if to keep them from violence. “Big.”

“Exactly!” Adora said.

“Excuse me,” Chinara said. The four of them stared at her. “Not to distract you from uh… planning.”

“I don’t like your tone,” Glimmer said.

“But, uh—” Chinara pointed at the scales at the window.

The four of them screamed, searching their persons for nonexistent weapons as even Bow had left his bows elsewhere. The ship rocked once more.

“I don’t believe,” Chinara said, “that we have been experiencing earthquakes, as such.”

They all watched the line of scales slowly creep across the windows. The beast moved cross the ship now, rather than up it, as if it were wrapping itself around them. The five of them watched its slow progression, paralyzed by fear and indecision.

“What is that?” Bow said.

“Do we… fight it?” Glimmer said.

“What is it doing?” Adora said.

“You people _want_ to live on this planet?” Catra said.

Chinara realized Fae and Koldo had also entered the control room when she heard their respective shrieks of terror.

“Is that what I think it is?” Koldo said, moving to stand next to Chinara at the control panel.

Chinara looked at him with wide eyes.

Koldo moved to the window, reached a hand out to the glass separating them from the massive beast. “Blue Tongue,” he said.

“What are you talking about?” Fae squeaked.

“I told you they were real,” Koldo said to Chinara.

“Congratulations,” she said, but her voice was shaky. “The horrifying creature of my nightmares is flesh and blood.”

The scales of the reptile disappeared in a flash, along with Chinara’s hopes that the sheer size of the creature would at least slow its speed.

“Chinara!” Glimmer said. “Where did it go?”

“How should I know that?” Chinara demanded.

The ship rumbled once more, swinging them side-to-side like a pendulum. Chinara felt sick thinking about all the other times the beast must have knocked against the ship and they mistook it for an earthquake. The ship stilled.

“I think it’s underneath us,” Koldo said.

Everyone looked at each other with round eyes, completely still, as if that might help cloak them from the Blue Tongue.

They were knocked to the ground once again at the next heave. Chinara wasn’t sure if the movement was actually more severe now, or if it just seemed that way because she knew what was causing it.

This question was answered in the next moment, when everyone was thrown to the wall of windows, hands and feet pressed to the same glass the beast had pressed against moments ago. The ship had been turned on its side. _Yes, this is worse_ , Chinara thought.

The Etherians were scrambling, trying to regain their footing, preparing for a real fight now. But they were all struggling for purchase on the glass, and the ship had not yet stopped moving. Chinara watched the sand move around them and realized they were being pulled through the sand. She closed her eyes, and pressed her cheek to the glass beneath her, trying to breathe through her panic.

And then everything was once again quiet and still. Bow and Glimmer were helping each other move through the sideways control room, but Chinara felt a movement once again. The ship wasn’t stable. She looked up and saw a sky full of stars, and saw the view shift, slightly, and then, all at once. The ship crashed, sending Chinara back to the floor of the control room, and finally settled.

Chinara rose to her knees, unable to stand upright with how badly her legs shook.

Fae was near her, standing with her hands on her hips, staring up at the stars. “We’re back!” she said happily. “Thanks, monster.”

“Is it gone?” Bow said, pressing his nose into the glass at the window, trying to see all around them.

They were at the base of a dune, now. Chinara thought the Blue Tongue must have left them at the crest of one, only for them to tip over and slide down to a stable position. The ship was more or less parallel to the surface.

“Thanks?” Catra said to Fae, incredulous. “Sure, yeah, great. Now we’re on the surface, and so is the huge lizard the size of the palace.”

Chinara was sure Catra would be horrified to know she had almost exactly repeated her thought. Chinara thought it wise to stay silent.

And then, a hundred feet or so away, the Blue Tongue breached the surface, rising up from the dunes. From this position, they could see it in its entirety. The moonlight was bright on the giant skink’s scales, the top of which were a dusty purple. The skink’s body alone was twice the length of the spaceship, and its wide, powerful tail added another four spaceship lengths. The massive lizard slithered as much as it crawled on its four proportionately small feet. It lifted its head, and for one instant they saw its bright blue tongue reach into the sky before it burrowed into the sand and disappeared.

* * *

Adora and Glimmer wanted to begin their journey across the desert immediately, but Catra insisted they all get at least a few hours sleep first. Dawn was breaking, anyway. They all watched the first red glow of the sun, just beyond the horizon. Chinara had told them they would need to travel outside of the hottest parts of the day to avoid heat exhaustion. They would leave at sunset. Catra didn’t admit it, but she also felt relieved to be on the surface once again, giant lizard monster or no.

Catra and Adora’s room was a mess. The mattress was thrown into the corner, and all of their things were strewn everywhere. They half-heartedly straightened up what they could. Adora tried to help move the mattress back to the bedframe, but she couldn’t grip it well with her burned hand, and let Catra do it on her own with minimal complaining, for Adora.

Adora was sitting, leaned up against the wall and watching Catra find the pillows and the blanket. “Izar didn’t get burned by the shard,” she said. She was looking at her burned palm like it was a puzzle.

“Yeah?” Catra said.

Adora frowned. “I couldn’t stop myself.”

Catra sat on the bed she had just clumsily made. Despite the fact that she knew that giant lizard thing was out there waiting to eat them all, she couldn’t feel very worried. She was reaching that strange, almost disembodied feeling after days of exhaustion. Her mind was whirring from one thing to the other, and she felt detached even from her own spinning thoughts.

“From what?” Catra said.

“Touching the shard.”

“Adora,” Catra said, “come here.”

Adora did, nuzzling into her side. Catra held her bandaged hand gently. “Does it hurt?”

“Nah.” She sighed. “I’m sorry.”

Catra made a small but clear sound of disapproval, and Adora laughed. “You’re sorry for touching the shard? You get dumber by the day.”

“It was weird,” Adora said. “They didn’t even do anything. It was me. I did it.”

There was real anxiety in her voice, and Catra turned to face her, eyes flicking back and forth, across her face. “What do you mean?”

“The—whatever it was. The poison shard. I touched it. I couldn’t stop myself. I wanted to.”

Catra waited.

“I don’t know why I did it. It’s like—I had to. Even though it was horrible. I was freaking out I guess. I don’t know why.” Adora looked back up at her. “I kept thinking you all had left me. That you hated me.” She put her head in her hands. “I don’t know why, I guess I was scared. The poison didn’t hurt when I touched it, it felt good. Like I had a burst of energy. I felt powerful.” She looked up. “I’m sorry I said all those things, Catra. I trust you. I should have fought it.”

Catra held her. “Adora,” she said, not managing to erase the reproach from her voice. “I told you not to apologize to me,” Catra said softly. “The shard was corrupt magic. It wasn’t your fault. And you did fight it.”

Adora’s eyes filled. She kissed Catra back and pulled away. “I don’t want you to think I’m thinking that all the time. That I’m worried you’ll…”

“Turn evil again?” Catra said.

Adora sighed. “I was going to say ‘hate me again.’”

“I never hated you,” Catra said, but her hand flew to her stomach before she could stop it when she felt the pain.

Adora’s eyes darkened, but she didn’t look surprised.

“I always loved you, too,” Catra whispered, closing her eyes so she didn’t have to see Adora’s. They would be clear and blue and forgiving. And all Catra could think was, _At least I always hated myself more,_ but she didn’t say it because she knew it would only make Adora sad.

“I know.” Adora squeezed her hand. “I’m saying I trust you, okay?”

“I just—you weren’t wrong. I could mess up again,” Catra said, feeling furious with herself. “I don’t really trust myself.” She didn’t realize that was true until she said it.

“Well I do,” Adora said, voice tight.

“I should be better.” Catra tried to breathe. What was this, rising up? She didn’t have to let it control her. “I promised I would never hurt you again.” Catra gripped the fabric on her thighs. She distantly realized her claws were tearing it.

Adora touched her forearm, so lightly, just grazing the surface. “You didn’t break it.”

Catra held her fists tight, her whole body coiled.

“You didn’t. You haven’t.” Adora’s voice was high-pitched with anxiety.

Catra was supposed to be comforting her, but she couldn’t seem to stop. “You were, though,” she said.

“Were what?” Adora insisted.

“Hurt,” Catra said.

“It wasn’t you, it was—” Adora broke off.

Catra saw the confusion on Adora’s face and knew what she was thinking. Catra knew she hadn’t hurt Adora herself. Not this time. But still, she felt… “Sometimes,” Catra said, “I think it was better. When I was the only one who could hurt you.”

“Catra,” Adora said, “that’s such _bullshit_.” She actually sounded mad.

Catra frowned at her. “It’s not. You know it’s not because of the stupid magic stuff. I’m telling the truth. I still think it, sometimes. You should know it.” She was hissing by the end and she should have stopped already, but she couldn’t. Adora was too trusting, and too loving, and she didn’t understand, and she needed to.

“I don’t mean that,” Adora said, waving her arm. “I mean, you were never the only one who could hurt me. That’s—that was never true.”

Catra stared. “You were always the only one who could hurt _me_.” Her tears welled up and over.

“That’s not true, either,” Adora said, nearly pleading. “I—I know I have hurt you, that I did, but Catra—” She was crying now, too. “Is that how you always thought of me? As the one who hurts you?” Her breath was hitching, like she was trying to control the sobs but couldn’t.

Catra wrapped her arms around her. “No.” She cradled Adora’s head in her hands, feeling the shape of it. “No, Adora, that’s not what I meant. That’s not how I meant it.” She ran her fingers through the soft strands of her hair, over and over. “I’m sorry.” When Adora’s crying had quieted somewhat, Catra pulled away to see her. She gripped Adora’s shoulders. “It’s not your fault that I love you too much. I know that now, okay? I’ll get hurt sometimes anyway, and it’s not your fault. It’s just how it is.” She shook Adora’s shoulders a little. “You can’t be perfect.”

“You don’t have to be perfect either.” Adora squeezed Catra’s knee.

Catra laughed once and wiped her eyes. “Perfect?” She laughed again. “I’m going for ‘meets expectations.’”

“Shut up,” Adora said, lightly. “You can’t love someone too much.” Adora’s voice was shaking, but she reached out, grazed a thumb over Catra’s lips.

Catra lifted an eyebrow.

Adora laughed a little and wiped her nose. “Well, I don’t want to stop.”

“You always had more brawn than brains,” Catra said, but her voice sounded so dopey even to herself that Adora just smiled. Catra watched her for a moment. “I—” Catra started. “It’s still _feels_ true,” she whispered. “That if you’re hurt, it must be me who did it.”

Adora traced the line of her brow. “I’m going to get hurt sometimes. It’s just how it is.” She smirked a little, daring Catra to deny her own words used back at her.

“Oh, you think you’re smart now?”

“I mean it’s what _you_ said.” Adora’s mouth was quirking up, and even though Catra was being stupid and made her cry, she looked _happy_.

Catra watched Adora in the dim light, her eyes were all red and her hair was all messy and they both still shone like they had their own light. “I’m sorry.” Catra released a shaky laugh, and Adora smiled. “I didn’t mean to say all that stuff.” She dragged a hand across her face. “I don’t—you wouldn’t wake up.” Catra fell forward, her nose on Adora’s neck. She was so warm. She smelled like antiseptic, still, from where Catra had treated her scrapes earlier. “Don’t do that again.”

Adora laughed. “I wasn’t trying to.” She ran her fingers through Catra’s short hair, her nails scratching behind her ears.

Catra sat up and grabbed her wrist, held it between them. “It’s not a joke. I mean it.”

“I’ll do everything I can, Catra,” Adora said dutifully. “I promise.”

Catra tipped them over, pinning Adora’s wrist to the side of her head. Catra nipped at her lips, once twice. “Not what I said,” Catra said. She kissed her slow and long, until Adora went boneless, pliant, and it felt like Catra made her that way just by wanting it bad enough.

Catra pulled back until Adora opened her eyes, and they were wide and searching. “I’ll never leave you again,” Adora said. She pulled Catra back down to her, and Catra felt her fingers on the scar at the back of her neck where she was chipped, and Catra could almost hear her saying, _Come back_. Catra did, pressing their bodies together, herself into Adora. Adora sucked in a breath like something burned her, but Catra understood. A shock to the system. Too much was still too much. Kissing Adora was always like that. Losing something. Gaining something else. Catra didn’t understand how it could be a choice if she needed it so much.

Catra wanted to say, “That’s not how I mean,” and, “Say it again,” and, “Please.” In the end she said none of those things, but she wanted to say all of them bad enough that Adora had to know. Catra made her know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The comfort might have been angsty, but at least catradora got to make out before squad goes out into the desert lol.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's hot, Catra gets to torture Chinara, and Adora makes a discovery.
> 
> Thanks as always to my sister who betas for me. :) Hope you enjoy!

Bow hated to admit it, but morale was low. Catra’s litany of complaints about the heat were to be expected, but Glimmer’s tirade about sand was taking on a dark edge. Even Adora was losing her temper.

Adora was convinced that if she climbed a high enough sand dune, she could glimpse the river Chinara had assured them was close. Adora raced up another dune, stumbling, using her hands to grasp at the sand in her haste. The rest of their little caravan stopped to watch Adora’s furious summit. When she reached the top, Adora kicked the sand and yelled something unintelligible in the wind. The sand, which Adora had sent directly into the wind, sailed right back into her face.

Even Bow had to admit the sight was funny—and funnier still because Adora had finally accepted Chinara’s offer of her extra hat after Adora’s nose started peeling from sunburn. The hat was a shapeless, lumpy thing with a wide floppy brim. It was a color that Bow might call beige if he was feeling generous. Chinara’s “gift” even had cords to keep it in place, which Adora had fastened under her chin after the hat kept flying off in the high winds. Bow was relieved that Chinara only had one extra of the ugly things, sun damage or no.

Adora slid down the dune, ignoring Catra and Glimmer’s laughter at her expense, and marched up to Chinara. Chinara was wearing the same horrible hat, and Adora got so close to her that the brims almost touched. Adora’s face was still covered in orange sand. She jabbed a finger in Chinara’s chest. “You said we’d be able to see the river soon.”

Chinara wiped her forehead with a shaking hand. “I said when the mountains appear on the horizon, we’d be close to the river. We have not spotted mountains yet.”

Adora leaned into Chinara’s face. “You said soon,” she said in a tone Bow hadn’t heard since Horde Prime was around.

Catra watched the interaction with glee. She was directly behind Chinara, a position she had maintained for the last three days, but Catra backed away now as if to give Adora room for a brawl. Bow really hoped it didn’t come to that.

Their days of travel had been tiring, hot, and long. Bow supposed they should be glad they had not any further interaction with the Blue Tongue, but it was tough for even Bow to feel grateful for their relative good luck when every day was a tortuous exercise in endurance—and patience. None of them had gotten a full night’s rest since they set out from the spaceship. They couldn’t travel when the suns were at their hottest, as they would soon succumb to heat exhaustion. But they also couldn’t travel throughout the night, as the moons were at phases too dim to light their path. So, they were forced to travel in two shifts per day—a dawn shift and an afternoon-to-sunrise shift. Whenever they stopped for rest, they also had to keep watch in shifts for the Blue Tongue.

These less-than-ideal conditions were not the best for healing already strained relationships. Bow had been trying to forge a better friendship with Fae, Koldo, and Chinara, but Fae was irritable, Koldo distant, and Chinara—well, he couldn’t even strike up a conversation with her. No one could, because Catra had taken it upon herself to follow her at all hours of the day, on alert for further betrayal.

Chinara had clearly been trying to talk to Adora alone—for a proper apology, Bow hoped—but Catra had disrupted all attempts. Bow might try to interfere, but he also remembered fighting Catra and her claws, and she might be inclined to use them after three days under two very hot suns.

Glimmer had plopped down onto the sand to drink from her water bottle and watch Adora scare Chinara. “You did say soon,” Glimmer said to Chinara.

Bow approached Adora slowly. “Maybe we should all take a break.”

“I never expected to make this journey,” Chinara pointed out, voice calm. She was dripping with sweat and her cheek had turned a dark blue from where Glimmer had struck her. Bow found it hard to stay mad at anyone who looked so miserable.

“I never expected to—to—” Adora spluttered, waving her arms around at the desert.

“Look like a deranged fisherman?” Catra supplied.

“Match a deranged fisherman alien?” Glimmer added. The two of them were laughing so hard they were crying.

Adora turned on Catra. “You told me to wear it.”

Catra flicked the brim of Adora’s hat. “Yeah, well, I once told you to steal a skiff and check out the Whispering Woods. Look where that—”

Adora tackled Catra, the two of them rolling into the nearest sand dune.

Chinara turned wide eyes to Bow. “Should we… stop them?”

Bow sat next to Glimmer. “Not unless you want to fight them, too,” he said. He pulled out his water bottle, but found it was empty. He was about to ask Chinara to open up the storage vehicle so he could refill, but Glimmer handed him hers, which he accepted with a smile.

“You should be glad Adora didn’t tackle _you_ ,” Glimmer said, narrowing her eyes at Chinara.

Bow took a sip from Glimmer’s water bottle. “Even the water’s hot,” he lamented, drinking long anyway.

“How hot do you think it is?” Glimmer said, pinching the front of her shirt away from her chest.

“It can reach up to 200 Deluj here,” Chinara said.

“I don’t know what that _means_ ,” Glimmer said, as if it were Chinara’s fault.

She sighed. “It means really—” Chinara paused to take her hat off and mop her forehead. Bow wondered idly whether he could ask her about the red and orange markings on her head, but he decided it would be impolite. “Really hot.”

“This should be illegal,” Glimmer whined, falling back into the sand on her back. “I’m making deserts illegal when we get back.”

“You know,” Bow said, “lying in the sand like that might be why you always have so much in your hair.”

Glimmer glared at him, but Bow thought she looked adorable.

“Koldo!” Chinara called up to where Koldo and Fae were trekking ahead. “Don’t get too far!”

He waved his hand but didn’t even turn around. He had one of the terrible hats on, too, but Bow noticed he kept trying to push the brim down, like he might be able to mold it into something better. It was not working.

Chinara sat on the edge of the transport vehicle. The desert-faring cart carried the majority of their belongings and many, many pounds of water and food. Bow knew the vehicle didn’t have enough fuel to traverse the entirety of the Desert of Scars. Part of him wanted to know how much they had left, but a larger part of him was trying not to think about what they would do once they had to abandon the cart.

“If Adora won’t stay on the cart anymore, I call it,” Glimmer said.

They had tried to force Adora to drive so she could rest, but she’d barely stayed on it for any time today. She insisted she was fully recovered.

Chinara replaced her hat on her head, tightening the cords under her chin. “I never thought I’d see the Desert of Scars for myself. I definitely never thought I’d die here surrounded by angry Etherians.”

“You know,” Bow said, trying to broach the topic tactfully. “Etherians appreciate apologies.”

“But you also said that actions speak louder than words, and yet when I gifted Adora my spare hat, she didn’t even seem grateful.” Chianra let her head fall back and gestured widely, a rare breach in her usually perfect control.

Glimmer snorted. “That hat’s not a gift. That hat’s a crime.”

“So you haven’t apologized?” Bow said.

“I’ve tried,” Chinara said. “But whenever I start, Catra—”

Glimmer and Bow looked at each other and tried not to laugh. They didn’t need Chinara to finish her sentence. They’d seen it themselves. Catra had been interrupting all of Chinara’s attempts to talk to Adora with a series of increasingly personal questions, beginning with, “What made you decide to wear that stupid cape?” and ending with, a few hours ago, abruptly asking, “Why does your mom hate you so much?”

To everyone’s surprise, Chinara had answered each and every question. Her answers seemed sincere, if not complete. Bow had thought it was cute when Chinara said, “An older girl in the Spire always wore a cape,” and less cute when she had admitted, over Adora’s admonishment of Catra asking the question at all, “I don’t think my mother has any strong feelings about me one way or the other.”

“Is she going to keep this up forever?” Chinara asked Glimmer and Bow.

“Probably,” Glimmer said.

“She has been known to hold grudges,” Bow said, which made them both laugh again.

Chinara was watching Adora and Catra tussle in the sand with wide eyes. Catra wrangled the hat off of Adora’s head, but before she could toss it away, Adora flipped them over, pushing the hat over Catra’s ears and making her screech. Bow could tell that they were just playing, not even sparring. But he figured Chinara still wasn’t used to seeing people interact so physically, much less people who grew up in the Horde. “As if _I_ could ever be threatening to any of _you_ ,” Chinara said.

“And yet,” Glimmer said darkly. Bow tried to catch her eye, but she looked away. She was keeping something from him.

Bow focused on Chinara. He would figure out what Glimmer wasn’t telling him later. “You can’t let Catra scare you off. It’s not like she would actually—”

He broke off at Glimmer and Chinara’s twin looks of incredulity.

“Well,” he said, voice strained. “We would stop her.”

“I’m not stopping her,” Glimmer said.

“Thanks a lot,” Bow said.

Glimmer grinned.

“Very comforting,” Chinara said, and went to join Koldo and Fae, who had also stopped for a water break ahead.

Bow handed the water bottle back to Glimmer. “Sorry,” he said, “I finished it.”

She accepted the empty bottle and knocked his upper arm with it good naturedly. She scratched her scalp. “How is there so much sand?” she wailed. “This is worse than the Crimson Waste.”

Bow rolled his shoulders. “It’s not the most fun I’ve ever had.”

“Are you okay?” Glimmer said, teasing. “That was almost a _complaint_.”

“Somebody in the best friend has to be positive,” he said.

Glimmer stuck her tongue out at him. She was still running her hands through the strands of her hair, trying to shake out the sand. The burnt orange turned Glimmer’s hair a dusky color, like a sunset. She scrunched up her eyes and started shaking her head. It was unbearably cute. He wanted to tell her so, but he was still bothered that she hadn’t told him something. They had talked about this.

“You’re keeping something from me, aren’t you?” he said.

Glimmer stilled, looking at him with guilty eyes.

“You said you—”

She held up her hands. “I’m not even supposed to know it, I just saw Catra—” She clamped her mouth shut.

“Saw Catra what?” Bow narrowed his eyes.

“We didn’t know how to tell you guys because you’re all so noble all the time or whatever. Even with her,” she said, scowling in Chinara’s direction.

“Glimmer,” Bow said warningly.

“Okay, fine,” Glimmer continued in a whisper, “but don’t tell Adora yet.”  
  


* * *

Chinara was bitterly cursing herself for ever wishing to venture out from the temperature-regulated comfort and plenty of the Spire. The Etherians were pushing the group to travel longer and longer at a time. It was the fourth day of travel, and Zilharr’s two suns were nearly at the apex of the sky.

They had reached the basin of the desert. Gone were the sandy dunes of the western area, giving way to a flatter, harder surface. It was even hotter, but made for far easier travel. The area was flat except for the occasional gouges in the sun-bleached surface of hardened sand. The troughs spanned as far as the eye could see, a foot or more wide, at least three feet deep. At least the transport vehicle was built for rough terrain, its wide, large wheels crossing the gaps easily. Chinara’s spirits were lifted, just slightly. They could finally see the range of mountains peeking above the horizon. They’d reach the river soon.

Chinara mourned the loss of her mother’s journal once again. Izar had kept a detailed account of her last days on Zilharr. Chinara had found it in the library several years ago and kept it ever since. She couldn’t imagine how she lost it. The journal’s maps were hardly precise, and its information was biased and spotty, unlike the professional research published by Spire experts, but it was still Chinara’s favorite source of information about the planet. She told herself this was because first-hand accounts were vital to understanding history, but she knew it was more than that. The Izar of the journal’s writings was softer, kinder. In the beginning of the book, shortly after her marriage to Chinara’s father, she had sketched out plans for a house. “At least two children,” she had scribbled at the bottom of the page. It was the only evidence Chinara had that her mother had ever wanted her.

Chinara told herself the loss of the journal was for the best. Even the note meant little in the face of Izar’s betrayal of her and Koldo, as well as all of Satellite. Izar had only ever had affection for the idea of a daughter, none for the one who actually lived.

Chinara was about to demand that they stop for the day—she had nearly fainted again—when she felt the first tremors.

She called to Glimmer to stop the transport vehicle, but the quake never worsened to more than a slight trembling. They all tensed, waiting, but the tremors ended without any further sign of the Blue Tongue. They had felt several small tremors like this over the past couple days without seeing the giant skink, so it was not particularly alarming.

“That’s it,” Glimmer said, jumping off of the cart. “We’re camping.”

“You were driving,” Fae said. “How are you tired?”

“I’m not tired,” Glimmer said, clearly lying. “I just know Chinara’s gunna keel over soon.”

A part of Chinara wished she had pride enough to protest this, but she was too relieved.

She opened the back of the vehicle and began to haul the tents out. When preparing for the trip to Etheria, Chinara had thought she had overpacked. She had insisted on packing a variety of equipment for a wide range of terrain. She had not trusted the Etherians to give them a place to stay, and had even considered that they might need to travel across Etheria itself to find She-Ra.

Chinara had never imagined they would use the supplies to travel on Zilharr. There were so many other things she would have brought and prepared if only she had known. As it was, they had two large tents. She had not realized just how hard it would be to sleep in a tent with other people, as she had never in her life shared a room, but she also wondered if it was just because of who she was forced to share with.

“Are you gunna hand me the pole or are you gunna stand there forever?” Catra was standing uncomfortably close, one hand out, waiting for the tent poles. She seemed least bothered by the heat out of all of them, although Chinara suspected that she simply refused to sweat by force of will to spite Chinara.

Chinara handed Catra the other tent’s poles. After Chinara helped Koldo set up the other tent, she came back to find that Catra and Adora had already prepared the other. Chinara ducked into the tent, finding the two of them sprawled out on the other side. The tent felt very full. She knew the four in the other tent were technically squeezed closer together, but she also thought that Catra’s animosity took up at least two people’s space.

“Thanks,” Chinara said. “I didn’t know you knew how to set it up.”

Adora shrugged. “It wasn’t hard once we watched you guys do it a few times.”

“You really think we’re idiots, don’t you,” Catra said. Chinara was amazed by how much vitriol she could infuse in her voice even with her eyes closed, head lying on Adora’s lap. Chinara was even pretty sure she heard Catra purring a moment ago.

“No, I don’t,” Chinara said, maintaining a level voice. She found herself staring at the two of them, their easy intimacy. Adora was running her fingers through Catra’s hair, the motion clearly aimless, almost unconscious. Chinara was still shocked by how… hairy all of the Etherians were. Didn’t they find it hard to clean? And hot? Even in the shade of the tent it was so hot that Chinara would have stripped bare if she were alone. But still, her heart lurched at the sight, as it had when she saw Bow do the same thing with Glimmer earlier this morning. Chinara had never touched anyone like that, much less let someone else touch _her_.

Chinara ate a meager meal in silence. She forced herself to drink so much water that her stomach sloshed, overfull. She had a bad headache. Her mother had mentioned it as a symptom of dehydration in the journal. When Chinara was finished and preparing to lie down and at least attempt to sleep, she noticed, in the strange, abrupt way of noticing a thing’s absence, that Catra hadn’t said a word in many long, blissful minutes of peace. This was Chinara’s chance.

“Adora,” she whispered.

Adora looked up at her, hand stilling on Catra’s head. “What’s wrong?” she said.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Chinara started. “Or, rather—” She took a big breath. “I’m deeply sorry for what I did.”

Adora didn’t respond, but she seemed to soften. She waited.

“I trusted the wrong person,” Chinara said. “I believed him.”

Adora nodded. “The Elder, you said?”

Chinara nodded. “He told me to. He said it would make you stronger.” She sighed. “I’m ashamed. I’ve lived my life corrupted, known that I have had… hate in my heart all my life. But still. I… try. To be better. Maybe it’s impossible for me to overcome it. But I should have known better than do what any of them told me to. And anyway, I should not have made the choice for you.” _I am no better than my mother,_ she thought, but kept to herself. She didn’t want the Etherians believing that, even if it was true.

“You were close with the Elder?” Adora said, looking sympathetic.

“He was always kind to me,” Chinara said. “I didn’t think he would lie to me.”

Adora nodded, then shrugged, considering. “He talked to me before Catra found me.”

“He did?” Chinara said.

“Yeah,” Adora said. “He didn’t make much sense, but I did get that he wanted to purify the corruption of the magic. I believed he meant that part, at least.”

“Purify the corruption?” Chinara’s eyebrows shot up.

“Yeah,” Adora said, her voice lowering even further. They lapsed into several moments of silence, Chinara wracking her brain for memories of research attempting to purify the magic.

“Listen, Chinara,” Adora said eventually. “Your mom, she said something to us. Before we found you.” Adora swallowed. “She said that if Catra was feeling pain from the vial, that it meant that she was corrupting the magic.” Adora met her eyes with a steady gaze. “Do you know anything about that?”

Chinara frowned, thinking hard. That was not good.

“That means something to you, doesn’t it?” Adora said. “Tell me.”

“I told you, when we first arrived on Etheria,” Chinara said, choosing her words carefully. “My people corrupted the magic. Yes, it can be corrupted.”

“How, though?” Adora said. “You said they were power-hungry right?”

“Yes,” Chinara said. “Specifically, it was the underground dwellers. Although, as I said, we are all—we were all connected on Zilharr, through the magic. The underground people seemed not to understand this. They started hoarding the magic for themselves. They wanted to control the source, monopolize the planet’s magic for themselves. But of course this was a futile course of action. As soon as they decided to use the magic for themselves and to the detriment of the rest of the planet, they began to corrupt the magic itself.”

Adora shook her head. “I don’t understand. Catra isn’t doing anything like that. She took the vial to help your planet.”

Chinara said nothing, but she doubted her motives were that… noble. “All I know,” Chinara started, “is that our magic is corrupted by suspicion, anger, and bitterness. Once it is corrupted, it begins to breed these same vices in those close to it. We were always told the conduit for the pure magic must be someone honest and true. There are stories of the corruption being painful, once it had begun.” She swallowed, watching Adora curl over Catra’s sleeping form. Chinara didn’t see any reason to go into further detail about that. “I always thought it would be all or nothing,” Chinara continued. “That we’d know immediately whether the conduit could carry the magic or not. But—” Chinara met Adora’s eyes again. “clearly there are things I don’t know.”

Adora was shaking her head. “I don’t believe it. Catra’s not— _corrupt_ ,” she said fiercely.

Chinara said nothing.

“I felt it, too,” Adora whispered, her hands still gently stroking Catra’s head, her neck. “The corruption of the shard. I know that’s real. It takes over your mind. But—I don’t understand. _People_ aren’t corrupted. They just make decisions, bad or good.”

Chinara snorted. “You met my mother, didn’t you? Did you think there’s anything good left in _her_?” She shook her head. “I guess you don’t understand. You’re from a very different world. You have a loving mother, don’t you? A whole family at home?”

Adora’s face darkened. “No.”

Chinara waited, but Adora didn’t say anything more.

“I see,” Chinara said. “I’m sorry. But I know the stories of my planet, and I know my mother wasn’t always like that. She was here when the underground dwellers turned on Zilharr, their hearts hardened with hate, blind to anything but the accumulation of power. I didn’t realize it, but I guess my mother never really tried to fight the corruption. Instead, she succumbed to it like the underground people, used it for her own gain. Likely added to the magic’s corruption herself. Maybe she’s been been lost to it since before I was born. The magic doesn’t corrupt itself, but once it is, the cycle of corruption is very difficult to break.”

Adora’s hands had stilled, gripping Catra’s arm and shoulder. Her eyes looked bright and hard, even in the diffused light in the tent. “Magic doesn’t do that to you,” Adora said, her voice rough but firm. “That’s an excuse. Magic doesn’t make you do anything. People make decisions. You can blame it on magic all you want, but it’s not true.” She lay down after that, without another word, positioning herself between Chinara and Catra.

* * *

Two hours later, Adora left the tent, giving up on her chance of a nap. They’d have to camp again after sunset, anyway, as the night sky was still too dark for safe travel. Adora found Bow, on watch shift, tinkering with an arrow in the shade of the other tent’s small overhang.

“Hey,” Adora said, sitting next to him.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he said.

“I guess I slept enough this week.” Adora didn’t mention the pit in her stomach after her conversation with Chinara. “Chinara apologized,” she said instead. “I think she meant it.”

“That’s good,” Bow said. “Personally, I don’t think those drawings mean—” He cut off abruptly.

“What drawings?”

“Uh, no drawings! Haha, I don’t know why I said that, must be the heat!”

“Bow.”

Bow grimaced. “I wasn’t supposed to tell you.”

“Bow!”

He caved, confessing that he knew Catra had stolen Chinara’s diary. Adora was laughing, rolling her eyes. Of course Catra did. But then Bow began to talk about the drawings. Patients, it seemed, with various symptoms. When Bow mentioned the purple spots on the neck, Adora raced back into the tent.

Adora found the journal in Catra’s pack easily enough, leaving the bag and its contents on the floor of the tent. She went back outside and flipped through the journal in the sunlight, trying to find the drawings Bow had mentioned. Maps, writing, more writing, outlines. Where were the people?

“Adora,” she heard Catra say behind her, sounding irritated, “were you looking through my stuff?”

Bow was turned away, fiddling with an arrow.

Adora didn’t respond, continued flipping through the well-worn pages.

Catra’s eyes went wide and then narrowed at Bow. “Glimmer told you, didn’t she?”

“I don’t know what you mean!” Bow said, escaping back into the other tent.

“Sparkles couldn’t keep her mouth shut for a _day_ ,” Catra grumbled, sitting next to Adora. “I knew Bow couldn’t keep a secret. Thought Glimmer at least wouldn’t turn me in.”

Adora wasn’t paying attention. She had found the drawings of the symptoms—the chunks of hair missing, the haunted eyes in gaunt faces. Adora’s hands were shaking. “What _is_ this?”

“Her diary, I guess,” Catra said. “Adora?” she said.

Adora had found the drawings of the person with spots on the sides of the neck, just like Bow said. The drawings were in full color, as if the person had wanted to make sure anyone reading would understand the full horrible extent of whatever illness they were documenting. This person with the dots on their neck looked young. They had big eyes, strong features, hair curled around their face. They didn’t look anything like Chinara and Koldo. Adora tried to turn the page to see the progression of this person’s illness, but her hands were shaking so badly that it took several attempts. “Catra, what is this?” she said, when the next page had a drawing of a different person, different symptoms. But what had happened to _this_ person?

“I don’t know,” Catra said. “I can’t read any of the writing, obviously.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about this?” Adora said.

Catra huffed. “I thought you’d make me give it back to Chinara. Because you’re too nice all the time.” Adora felt her watching her. “Okay, whatever, I’m sorry, all right? I didn’t think you’d care. I couldn’t tell what most of it meant. We already have better maps.”

Adora could hardly even hear her. She went back to the tent, flipped the flap open, and shook Chinara’s shoulder. “Chinara,” Adora said, waving the journal in her face. “What happened to these people in the drawings?”

“What?” Chinara said, dark eyes blinking, bleary.

Adora shook her harder, feeling Catra entering the tent behind her.

“Oh,” Catra said, sounding excited. “Are you interrogating her now? Excellent.”

“This person,” Adora insisted, opening the journal to where she had kept the place saved with a thumb. “These—these dots, along the back of the neck, and the shoulders. What happened to them?”

“I…is that my journal?” Chinara said.

“What happened to them?” Adora demanded, in a tone she knew would halt further argument from Chinara.

Chinara propped herself up on one elbow and held out a hand. “Let me look. I can’t tell you if I can’t read it. I don’t remember this part.”

Adora handed her the journal. She crouched beside Chinara so she could see the pages laid out on Chinara’s lap.

“This underground dweller here,” Chinara said slowly, “with the dark markings on the sides of their neck. They had the markings for weeks, and then…” She flipped the page. “They began having fainting spells, nausea.”

“Then they cured them?” Adora said.

“I don’t know,” Chinara said. “It’s the last entry for them. Mother left, she never got more information. Adora, what’s wrong?”

“That’s Izar’s diary?” Catra said.

“Underground dwellers,” Adora said, ripping the journal back out of Chinara’s hands. “They’re the ones who corrupted the magic, weren’t they?”

“Yes,” Chinara said, her eyes sparking a bit, the excitement of an academic, “and I know what you’re thinking. There was a correlation. Perhaps the corruption caused physical symptoms, as well. Unfortunately the underground dwellers cut themselves off entirely before everyone fled the planet. They warred, set off some kind of—”

“Stop it!” Adora snapped. “Tell me! Tell me about this—this sickness.”

“I don’t know,” Chinara said. “Adora, what’s wrong?” Adora noticed Chinara looking at Catra for answers, but Catra was looking at Adora too, sitting next to her now.

Adora flipped through to another of the people listed. “And what about this one? What happened to him? And this one?”

Chinara held her hand out for the journal. “This one lost his hair before they left. Vomiting. Chills. This other one had the spots, too. They died at the clinic. This other one was fatigued. Hair loss.” Chinara looked up at Adora. “Yes. This is what we know of this sickness that tore through the people before the exodus. But we don’t know if it has anything to do with the corruption. It could have been a regular disease. Conditions were already worsening at that time, and it may have—”

Adora had fallen back so she was sitting, palms on the rough plastic of the tent’s floor. She couldn’t hear anything. She was breathing hard, painfully. Her vision was filled with dark spots. _This other one had the spots, too. They died at the clinic._

“Adora,” Catra said, and Adora realized Catra was gripping her shoulder so hard her claws pressed into the skin. “Breathe,” Catra said. “It’s okay.” Adora hadn’t tied her hair back again after waking and it was falling in her face. Catra pushed it behind her ear. “It’s okay.”

Adora looked up at Catra, blue and gold eyes wide and bright with worry. “It’s not,” she said, voice strangled, consumed with panic. “It’s not okay.” No, she wouldn’t do this. This planet could save itself. “How do we get it out of her?” Adora said to Chinara, voice gravely.

“Get what out?” Chinara said, still looking at Adora as if she wasn’t sure whether she was a threat or not. Adora wasn’t sure either.

“The magic,” Adora said. “How do we get it out of Catra? Right now.”

“Right now?” Chinara said slowly. “We can’t right now, we have to reach the source, and then—”

“No!” Adora said. “We’re doing it now. Zilharr can deal with its own magic. We’re not doing it.”

“Adora,” Catra said sharply. “What the hell is going on?”

Adora looked at her. “When you were sleeping, earlier, I saw on your neck…I thought they were freckles, but…” Adora could see them now, a smattering of purple dots along the sides of Catra’s neck. Of course, she couldn’t be sure they were the same as the ones in the journal, but Adora knew for sure they hadn’t been there a few days ago. “I thought it was the sun,” Adora said, voice strained.

Catra clapped a hand to her neck, her eyes flicking to the journal and back.

Adora looked back at Chinara. “So how?” Adora demanded.

Chinara’s eyes were wide. “I don’t know. I swear, I don’t know any way. The source will recognize the presence of the magic and reabsorb it. I don’t know another way to get rid of it.”

Adora grabbed Catra’s hand. “Okay,” she said, thinking hard, “we’ll call Entrapta. She’ll pick us up. Once we’re home, we’ll figure out what to do.” She could hardly follow her own train of thought, but it felt right to call Entrapta. Entrapta always knew what to do.

Adora tried to pull Catra out of the tent and outside, but Catra shook her off. “Would you quit trying to pull my arm off?”

“Sorry,” Adora said absently. She needed to find the tracker pad, anyway. She started searching through her bag, throwing a shirt over her shoulder, a tube of sunscreen.

“Would you stop throwing all our stuff everywhere?" Catra said. "We don’t even know whatever it is you saw.”

Adora turned around to see Catra trying, and failing, to see her own neck. “Well, I don’t care,” Adora said, turning back to her things. “We’ve done enough.”

“There’s no way to reignite the source remotely,” Chinara said, voice very calm and soft. “We absolutely have to travel—”

“I don’t care!” Adora threw a shirt in Chinara’s general direction. “I don’t care about your source!”

Chinara closed her mouth, and Adora went back to searching for the tracker pad, bunching up her sleeping bag and throwing it at the side of the tent. “What did I do with it?” she said, almost sobbing.

“So you think I corrupted it?” Catra said, so quietly that Adora almost didn’t hear her. Almost.

“No, I think it’s making you sick,” Adora said, not turning around.

“If it’s making me sick, then it must be because I corrupted it, right? This magic wasn’t corrupted when I took it.” Catra’s voice was too calm. Adora was afraid to look her in the eyes.

“Guys?” They heard Glimmer’s voice from outside the tent.

“I’ll be right out!” Adora yelled, realizing they must have heard her voice raised.

“I think you better come out now,” Glimmer said.

“Give me a minute, Glimmer!” Adora snapped.

“So that’s it, you’ve just decided I’m a lost cause?” Catra said, and Adora did turn around then. Catra’s eyes were narrowed in anger and hurt, her ears pinned down, her shoulders hunched. “Might as well go home?”

“That’s not what I said,” Adora said sharply, turning back to her bag. She couldn’t bear to see the spots on Catra’s neck, couldn’t bear to think of the magic inside her, making her sick. “And it’s not what I meant. And it doesn’t matter, because you’re sick and we have to—”

Glimmer’s scream cut off Adora’s sentence. It was a real scream, panicked. Catra and Adora stumbled out of the tent and found Glimmer, Bow, Koldo and Fae surrounded by people. Their hands were already tied up behind them, and the people had weapons held to their throats. The people’s faces were mostly covered with loose, light fabric. Adora had the errant thought that she wished they had such clothing when they started their journey across the desert—she would have gotten a lot less sand in her face.

“Hands,” said the person next to Glimmer, making an upward motion with their free hand.

Catra and Adora raised their hands. Chinara crawled out of the tent, too, raising her hands obediently in turn. 

“I thought your stupid planet was abandoned,” Catra hissed at Chinara.

Chinara swallowed. “I may have bad information.”

“You’re from the Spire,” the same person said, their voice deep and booming, “aren’t you?”

“Please,” Chinara said, “we’re not here to hurt you.”

The person snorted and unwrapped her coverings to reveal a face not unlike the ones Adora had just seen in the journal. “Isn’t that what you people always say?” She waved a hand, and more people approached, tying up Chinara, Catra, and Adora. The woman moved to stand in front of Chinara, grinning at her obvious panic. “We have some questions for you.”


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a bit longer than usual, this chapter ended up being longer than expected. Speaking of, remember how I said in the beginning this would be around 75k? Uh, it's gunna be... longer haha. In my head this was supposed to be like a sequel movie and now it's like a sequel three-season arc. (we're nearing the end of the second lol) Whoops. Hope you enjoy :) Your kudos/ comments give me fighting spirit.

“This is her fault, isn’t it?” Glimmer said, lifting her bound hands to her right, in Chinara’s general direction. Glimmer was addressing one of their captors, the woman who had identified Chinara as a Spire resident. The woman was leading the group’s trek back to their camp. She had spoken little, saying only that their fate was up to someone called Naj.

The woman laughed, a rough but pleasant sound. She had wrapped the light cloth back around her face, hiding all but her eyes, which were a vibrant yellow. “Eh,” she said, noncommittal but with good cheer, “we might have taken you anyway.”

“On the bright side,” Chinara said to Glimmer, her tone sharp and sarcastic, “we’ve made it to the river.”

They had only been walking for fifteen minutes and, sure enough, they had already reached the banks of a wide, brown, and slow-moving river. Even with Glimmer’s wrists tied, roped together with Chinara, Bow, and one of her captors, the sight of the river soothed Glimmer. Reeds and small palm trees lined the riverbanks, everything lush and green as Etheria. A heron-like bird, almost as tall as Glimmer, strutted along with the group as they passed it. Yellow amphibious creatures, similar to frogs but the shape and size of cats, prowled through the growth, warbling a melodic song. Glimmer took a long, deep breath, enjoying the soft, humid air. The barren desert was not endless after all.

Glimmer looked up at Chinara. “Are you being sarcastic right now?”

Chinara smiled in a way that was something close to smug. “Apparently I adapt faster to your customs than I expected.”

Glimmer couldn’t help a snort of laughter. She, Chinara, and Bow were pressed close together by the ropes. Glimmer had been annoyed that Chinara kept brushing her shoulder until Glimmer realized they were tied too closely together to help it. Behind them, Adora, Catra, Koldo, and Fae were tied together in a similar cluster. As they walked, there were several bouts of tremors, just like the group had felt for the last several days. “Even more today,” the man near Glimmer muttered. 

Glimmer was surprised Adora hadn’t transformed and helped them all to escape yet. She had tried, in the beginning, to make eye contact with her, try to ask her what was going on, but Adora had been totally oblivious to her attempts to do so. Glimmer figured Adora didn’t think it was worth the risk yet. Adora told her that she had healed Catra back on the ship with no issue, but that didn’t mean they understood yet how She-Ra interacted with this planet’s magic. Glimmer wouldn’t soon forget that Adora had been out for days after touching the shard.

They reached the outer edges of the campsite within an hour. The sun was setting and the people were starting fires for cooking, singing, knitting by the last of the daylight. Children ran and laughed. The sunsets were always spectacular in the desert—the suns, close together, glowing golden in a pink and purple sky—but with more people around, Glimmer noticed the beauty of the place differently. Their mission to save this planet had been theoretical. Yes, Glimmer wanted to help the people of Satellite, to give them back their lost planet. But after days in the desert, Glimmer couldn’t help but doubt whether there was much of a planet worth saving. She felt ashamed of such a thought now, seeing people thriving here. She knew what it was to have your very home under attack.

The rope pulled on Glimmer’s hands, bumping her into Chinara once again, the soreness at her wrists burning and her goodwill abruptly souring. “You people make it hard to want to save you, you know that?” Glimmer said to Chinara.

As they walked through the camp, tents large and small, packed together as if they weren’t in the middle of an unfathomably huge desert, Glimmer noticed the residents noticing Chinara. The people’s curiosity had turned to hostility. Glimmer heard the whispers—“From the Spire,” they said, angry, or scared, or both. Bow was frowning at the negative attention, adorably affronted. He kept trying to explain himself to the people staring, but they didn’t pay any attention.

“It’s okay, Bow,” Glimmer said, leaning over Chinara to catch his eye. “You’ll win them over soon enough.”

He gave her a soft smile before frowning again. “Why do they hate your people so much?” he said to Chinara.

Chinara’s shoulders were hunched from avoiding the contact with Glimmer. Glimmer felt a flare of vindictive pleasure at the thought that Chinara hated the unintentional contact much more than she did.

“I have no idea,” Chinara said. “We have done nothing but research for near twenty years, trying to figure out what went wrong at the source in an attempt to remedy it. Say what you will about my parents—”

“I have a lot to say about your parents,” Glimmer said.

“Yes, yes, I know,” Chinara said. “But still, they have devoted their lives to investigation of the magic and its corruption. Their methods may be… questionable, but their goals at least are true. I don’t know what these people think they’re going to do on this planet, with its accelerating meteorological and atmospheric deterioration.”

Glimmer hadn’t thought she was listening, but the woman leading the group turned around at this, still walking backwards. “You grew up in ignorance of your people’s crimes, then?” she said. “What a luxury! Good for you. And yet now you find yourself camped out not an hour’s journey from a Basa camp. Sure.” She laughed and shook her head.

“Basa? As in the nomads?” Chinara said. “But there are no more Basa people!”

“Do you think I’m a mirage?” she said.

She had unwrapped the cloth to cover her face, although it still covered her hair, and Glimmer could see the broad, strong lines of her face, pleasantly at odds with her bright, big, ethereal eyes. Her skin had the same greenish tint that Chinara and Koldo’s had, a warm, mossy tone in the light of the setting suns. The woman seemed like someone who had seen pain and hardship, and had overcome them. She seemed strong, and confident. Glimmer was envious. She had long worried she was too short and weak—and okay, _sparkly_ — to be perceived as strong. As queenly.

“Listen,” Glimmer started. “I’m Queen Glimmer of Bright Moon. What’s your name?”

“A queen!” she said, mouth lifting in amusement once again. “I’m just Dahl.”

“Dahl,” Glimmer said, “I’m sure her people did do terrible things to yours. But we—” Glimmer tried to indicate herself, Bow, and her friends behind her, “Are not from the Spire, or Satellite. We actually come all the way from Etheria. I don’t know if you’ve heard, but we—”

Dahl waved her hands. “Stop, stop. Don’t waste your breath.” She looked down her nose at Glimmer. “You look like you don’t have much to spare.”

Chinara laughed.

“Really?” Glimmer cut her eyes to Chinara, who was laughing even harder now, tears coming down her cheeks, the sound coming unhinged.

Dahl looked at Chinara with both concern and reproach before focusing on Glimmer. “I don’t make any decisions here,” she said, sober now. “You shouldn’t have trusted someone from the Spire.” Glimmer noticed that Dahl was not much taller than her, but that her presence commanded so much space that Glimmer had automatically believed her.

“You’re not even taller than me!” Glimmer said.

“I wasn’t referring to your height,” Dahl said, and Chinara laughed some more. Dahl glanced at her again, brow furrowed.

“Ugh, nevermind. And we don’t trust her,” Glimmer insisted, but Dahl just kept walking, shaking her head. But she did slow down when they reached another of the deep troughs in the land of the desert, and helped each of them, Glimmer, then Bow, then Chinara, to cross the gap.

“Has this trough been here long?” Chinara said to Dahl.

Dahl stilled at this, stared at Chinara. “Why do you ask?”

“So it is recent.”

“Only as recent as the blight of your people on this land,” she hissed.

They had reached a large tent, sun-bleached and frayed, but sturdy, its vaulted shape elegant, more complex than the war-tents they had used in Bright Moon. As they entered, Glimmer tried to sidle their group closer to Catra and Adora, but their captors made them stand against the canvas of the tent, one by one, so that both Chinara, then Koldo, were in between Glimmer and Catra, with Adora on Catra’s far side. They tied the ropes holding them to the tent poles and after briefly communing with Dahl, left the tent. There was an older-looking woman sitting at a long table in the center. Dahl sat next to her, kissed her on the cheek, deferential and affectionate at once.

Glimmer leaned over Chinara and hissed, “Adora! I think it’s time to—you know—” She looked around to see if anyone was listening. “Honor Grayskull.”

Adora mumbled something she couldn’t hear. She was standing very straight, her face frozen. If Glimmer didn’t know better she’d think she looked scared, but Glimmer didn’t believe Adora would be scared of these people.

“What?” Glimmer said.

Catra looked at Adora, then turned to Glimmer with flashing eyes. “She can’t.”

“I know it’s dangerous, but she told me she did on the ship to heal you, and everything was fine. I think it’s a risk we—”

“No,” Catra snapped. “She _can’t_.”

“What!” Glimmer and Bow both said.

“I’m sorry,” Adora said louder, looking absolutely miserable. She scrunched her eyes closed. “I just need to focus.”

Glimmer looked between Catra and Adora. Catra was decidedly not looking in Adora’s direction, her tail wrapped around her own leg. Adora was looking ahead, mumbling “For the honor of Grayskull!” to herself over and over.

“Catra,” Glimmer said, “did you break up with Adora?”

“What!” Catra glared at Glimmer, then at Koldo next to her, who had startled at this. “No! Shut up.” She glared at Koldo, who grimaced at her.

“You’ve been fighting or something though, haven’t you,” Glimmer hissed. “Come on. Kiss her or whatever.”

Koldo looked at Glimmer with wide eyes. “Your magic uses kissing?”

Catra shouldered Koldo out of her way to lean as close as she could to Glimmer. “If you don’t stop talking I will personally drag you out into the desert and feed you to the first big lizard we find.” Catra only grimaced at this, which Glimmer took to mean that the threat was only just a lie. That was mildly worrisome.

Glimmer leaned over Chinara to get as close as she could to Catra. Chinara and Koldo were both trying to back up and away from them, but there was nowhere for them to go, so they were simply squeezed together, looking like they were trying to fade into the fabric of the tent. “Are you really going to let us all be—” Glimmer looked out at the increasingly official-looking set up of the tent. They were arranging the chairs as if for some kind of tribunal. “put on trial just because you won’t make up?”

Catra leaned further into Koldo, not seeming to care that her ears were flicking into his face. “You know what, Sparkles? It turns out I’m not so reformed after all.” The venom in her voice increased with every word. “And without your princess powers, I don’t think you’ll stand much of a chance against me.” Catra extended her claws, the threat startling if performative—her hands were still tied together. Glimmer realized she hadn’t heard real anger in Catra for weeks.

Catra groaned, bending her head down and squeezing her arms to her sides from the pain. Of the lie, Glimmer realized.

“You really have to stop that,” Adora said, voice pained. “What if it’s making it worse?”

“Stop what, Adora? Being me?” Catra pulled away from Koldo, who she was sure to knock as she straightened, and stared ahead.

“What’s going on?” Glimmer said, looking at Adora.

Adora opened her mouth, eyes flicking from Glimmer to Catra’s impassive profile, but she shook her head. “We have to figure this out first.” Adora’s eyes narrowed then in a way that Glimmer did not like, and she shouted at the group of Basa people communing in the center of the tent, “Hey! Slow-pokes! Are you gunna make us sit around forever or are you gunna tell us why you have us tied up?”

The dozen people talking in whispers stopped and turned. Five of them sat down at the table, and the others exited the tent.

“Are you trying to get us killed?” Glimmer hissed at Adora, who did not even turn to look at her.

An older woman who had been speaking with Dahl started laughing. “Dahl told us you-all were rude. I must admit I wondered if she was exaggerating.”

Dahl was sitting on a carton off to the side of the main, long table. Glimmer wondered why they allowed her to stay if she weren’t official leadership.

“Rude?” Adora said, somehow petulant and righteous at once. “You tied us up and kidnapped us. That’s what we call rude on Etheria.”

“Etheria?” the woman said. She shared a glance with Dahl, who shrugged. “The Etheria of She-Ra’s fame?”

Adora snorted, rolling her eyes. “Not right now. Apparently.”

The woman frowned for a moment, but then her face cleared. “I’m called Naj. What’s your name?” She leveled a steady gaze at Adora, even as her head shook slightly, back and forth. Glimmer realized just how old the woman was, her face heavily lined and sun-worn. Her white hair was piled on top of her head, showing off glittering earrings that nearly reached her shoulders.

“Is that what you want to know?” Adora said. “Our names? Sure, we’ll tell you our names, then you can let us go. We don’t have time for this. It’s your stupid planet we were trying to save. But you know what? I’m done with your stupid planet, and I’m done with you.”

“Adora!” Glimmer squeaked. What the _hell_.

Naj looked like she couldn’t decide whether to be amused or annoyed by this. She turned to the man next to her, who whispered something in her ear.

“I’m sorry!” Glimmer said to Naj. “Our friend, Adora, is not usually so rude,” she said, sending a glare to Adora, who refused to meet her glare. “I’m Queen Glimmer of Bright Moon, a great kingdom of Etheria. We’re only here to try to help Zilharr. Chinara, and Koldo,” Glimmer nodded at the two of them next to her, “traveled to Etheria to ask us for help.”

Dahl laughed, startlingly loud. Everyone turned to her. Glimmer noticed the others at the table, save for Naj, looked annoyed at her interruption. “So you give aid to the Spire in exchange for what? What did they offer you?”

Glimmer frowned. “Technology, actually. Updated transportation systems. But we didn’t do it because of that, we did it because, well we had until recently been cut off from the universe. We are looking to give aid to those where we can now that we are able.”

“And Etheria sent a _queen_ for this task?” Dahl said.

“I chose to come here,” Glimmer snapped.

“Out of the goodness of your hearts, I’m sure.” Dahl crossed her legs, leaning back into the carton behind her.

“Help Zilharr?” Naj said, sending Dahl a look, and commanding the room once again. “How?”

Glimmer would have thought that was obvious. “By reigniting the source. Ridding the planet of the corruption.”

“And you didn’t think to ask the actual people of Zilharr,” Naj spread her arms wide, “whether we wanted such help.”

Glimmer looked at Bow. He raised his eyebrows, shook his head just slightly.

“We didn’t know there were people still living here,” Chinara said. “We believed the planet was abandoned entirely. Are there—?”

Dahl sprung off from the low table. Glimmer tensed for an attack, but she simply stood in place, arms crossed, body coiled, ready. “We already know the stories the Spire tells,” she said. She tossed her head, shaking her long curly hair out down her back. “Unfortunately for you, Spire girl, we have been in communication with the people of Exodus for years. Maybe your lies did work on these… interlopers,” she said, letting her gaze rake over all of them, “but they won’t work on us.”

Chinara shook her head. “No, we really did think it was abandoned. I— I already know my people have lied about some things. I did not know the survival of the nomads—”

There were hisses around the room at this word.

“was one of them,” Chinara continued, undeterred. “But of course, even you must understand the source must be reignited, it—”

Dahl rolled her eyes, turned her back to them. “These people are liars, Naj.”

“We would like to reiterate,” Glimmer said, “that our people were approached by your people, not the other way around.”

“The Spire is not _our_ people,” Dahl said.

“My name is Fae, of the Fright Zone,” Fae said, in a strong, clear voice. She was standing at the far side of Catra, at the very end of the group, and was, it seemed, tired of being overlooked. “And I am not one of _Glimmer’s_ people. I am, in fact, a leader of an entirely different group of people on Etheria. Please, do not judge us by this one queen’s leadership… or lack thereof.” She met Naj’s surprised gaze with a strong, steady look. “Many of us on Etheria recognize the autonomy of all independent states, and we certainly do not wish to impose our rule on you or your people.”

“I didn’t say anything about imposing our rule,” Glimmer hissed. “Did you have that speech _planned_?”

Fae shrugged and threw her a cocky smile.

“We aren’t the ones imposing,” Adora said, and Glimmer wondered by her shaky pronunciation if her friend had a handle on its definition, “on anybody. All we want to do is leave, but then you tied us up and dragged us through the desert even though we have a lot of problems and important things to do and so, release us now or—or you will meet the consequences.”

“Leave?” Bow said incredulously. “What are you talking about, Adora?”

Naj raised a delicate eyebrow, turning to Dahl. “I don’t believe these people are part of a conspiracy. They don’t seem to even—agree on why they are here.”

“Conspiracy?” Chinara said. “The only conspiracy we are a part of is trying to save Zilharr. How could you not want to help us? All we wish to do is reignite the source, and end the corruption that has plagued us for two decades.”

“Us?” Dahl said, incredulous. “How dare you.” She glared at Chinara, who seemed to be developing a resistance to such looks as she met Dahl’s challenging gaze with her own.

“Chinara,” Koldo said, “maybe we should listen to them.”

“You were born in the Spire, were you not?” Naj said, her head shaking back and forth as she spoke, setting her bright earrings tinkling.

“Yes, I never even—” Chinara started.

“So you know only what you were told.” Naj pressed her palms into the table in front of her.

“Don’t all of us?” Chinara said. “Aren’t you tired of living with the corruption? It must be horrible here, on the planet, so close to Mount Zil. Aren’t you sick of being corrupt?”

All of the Basa people stilled, quiet and wary now. The silence grew deep and menacing before Naj broke it, saying, “You wish to heal us?” It was clear to Glimmer that Naj herself was skeptical of this “healing.”

Chinara shook her head. “Purify the source, of course.”

Naj snorted. “And yet every time the Spire gets involved, things get worse for the people actually living here on Zilharr.”

Chinara frowned. “Every time?”

“This is not the first time someone from the Spire has tried to ‘heal’ us,” Dahl said, fist clenched.

“But it didn’t work?” Adora said. “They couldn’t heal anyone corrupted?”

Glimmer heard Catra hiss low and menacing.

“What did they give you, Ponytail?” Dahl said. “I hope it was worth it, to sell out a whole planet.”

Before Glimmer knew it, Adora was out of the ropes tying her hands together and crossing the space to where Dahl stood close to Naj. Adora, red in the face, spluttered, “I didn’t sell out anybody—Just tell me what you know!”

Dahl rocked back on her heels, giving Adora a long look. “Or what?”

Adora punched her in the jaw.

There was a tense, silent moment, everyone in the tent looking back and forth between Dahl and Adora. It was broken by Catra snickering. Soon, Dahl herself was laughing. “You’re trained, aren’t you?” Dahl said.

Adora had her hands at her mouth, eyes wide and horrified. “I am so sorry,” she said. “I didn’t really—I was just—I’m really sorry.”

Dahl nodded once, rubbing her jaw where Adora had hit her. Her eyes gleamed. “We did kidnap you and your friends,” she said, as if just realizing it.

“Yeah,” Adora said, “you did. Just let us leave, okay?”

“Adora,” Glimmer said, frustrated, “why do you keep saying that?”

Naj considered Adora. “Your friends don’t seem to agree with your plan.”

The tremors began again, so violent this time that Glimmer’s head knocked into Chinara as they were thrown to the ground. “Ow,” Glimmer said, rising to her knees.

Naj turned to the others at the table, and sent them away to help the camp.

A young boy sprinted in just minutes later. “Dahl!” he said, through tears.

“What?” she said. “What is it?”

“It’s Zee,” he said, sobbing. “She’s—the tent fell.”

“Is she all right?” Dahl demanded, striding over to him.

The boy gave a hopeless, unsure gesture.

Dahl squeezed his shoulder. “I’ll get her.” She patted his head, turned him around. “Show me.”

“We’ll send help,” Naj called to Dahl.

“I’ll go,” Adora said. She began to follow Dahl out of the tent, but she turned on Adora at the opening. “Don’t try it, Ponytail.”

Adora rolled her eyes. “Come on, I’ll help the kid.”

Dahl narrowed her eyes, considering. “Fine.” The two of them followed the boy through the gap in the tent.

“Adora!” Glimmer yelled.

“I’ll be right back!” she yelled, already out of sight.

“And now Adora’s just—gone!” Glimmer said, groaning. “How did she even get out?” She looked at Catra, who was smirking. Glimmer saw the clearly cut rope at her feet and Catra’s own extended claws.

“Can’t reach mine,” Catra said, lazily lifting her hands. They were all sitting on the ground now, although Catra was the only one who looked like she might just stay there forever. “And since Adora’s decided to go crazy—”

“You can reach Koldo’s,” Chinara whispered, pushing her brother closer to Catra.

“Don’t push your creepy brother into me,” Catra snapped.

Naj barked something into a communication device, and they all looked in her direction, reminded of her presence.

“Catra,” Glimmer whispered, sure that Naj had other problems at the moment. “What the hell was Adora talking about? What’s going on?”

Catra turned away from her to stare ahead. “Turns out I’m not good enough for their magic.”

“What?” Bow said.

“We’re not sure that’s what it means,” Chinara said quickly.

“Adora’s sure,” Catra said. “And Adora’s always right, isn’t she?”

Chinara urged her brother to move further away from Catra and her rapidly deteriorating mood. Chinara turned to Glimmer. “Adora noticed from the journal,” Chinara started.

Glimmer turned on Bow. “You told her!”

Bow grimaced at her. “I couldn’t… help it?”

“Catra has some … symptoms,” Chinara continued, “that may or may not be related to the corrupted magic.”

“Symptoms?” Bow said. “Catra,” he said, leaning over to see her, “are you sick?”

“No,” Catra said.

“What?” Glimmer said. “Someone explain—something!”

“Adora is concerned about it,” Chinara said.

Glimmer’s eyes flicked to Catra, now pretending—Glimmer was pretty sure, now, it was pretend—nonchalance, and then back to Chinara. “Okay, yes, but why is she so concerned?” Glimmer said.

“Adora pointed out that Catra has purple markings on her neck not unlike the ones depicted in my mother’s journal,” Chinara said.

Glimmer looked at Catra, trying to see the markings for herself. Catra squirmed under her scrutiny. It was hard to see much in the low lighting. “Wait, that’s your mom’s journal?”

“Yes,” Chinara said.

“Well? What kind of sickness is it? What happened to them?”

“We don’t know about many of them,” Chinara said. “But for some it was… terminal.”

“What?” Bow said, voice low and horrified.

Glimmer blinked, many things coming together at once. “That’s why Adora wants to go home,” she whispered. She looked at Catra, fear for her friend giving her a heady, disoriented feeling. “Do you feel sick?”

Catra spun to her, furious. “No, I don’t feel sick. I feel fine. I’m _fine_!” Catra was giving her a piercing, daring look. _Turns out I’m not good enough_ , Catra had said.

“Catra,” Glimmer said, gentle, “nobody thinks it’s your fault.”

It was the wrong thing to say. Catra turned away, her face stony and far-off. Glimmer tried to talk to her again, but nothing seemed to land. Glimmer knew that if they weren’t all tied up in the middle of a desert on an alien planet, Catra would have run. Glimmer should give Catra space, but such things did not come naturally to Glimmer. She liked to face things, to talk it out—fight it out if necessary. After everything, how could Catra not believe that all her friends wanted was to help her? 

* * *

Catra didn’t get sick. She couldn’t get sick, because no one could in the Horde, but especially not her. And so she didn’t. Adora had gotten sick a bunch of times. When they were eight, she vomited all over her bed in her sleep. Catra had been sleeping at the end of it, woken up by the smell—briny and alarming, even by Fright Zone standards. Adora had been sweating and pale, thrashing and delirious. Catra had been stupid, then. She thought Shadow Weaver would punish Adora for the sin of sickness. Catra hadn’t known yet that Shadow Weaver only meant such threats for Catra. So Catra hid Adora and herself away in the space between the barracks’ wall and the heating system. They stayed there for a day and a night. Catra had been terrified, more so because she didn’t know whether to fear discovery or the illness more. But after many hours, Adora roused, head no longer hot. They were young enough that no one cared where they had been. _I was really tired, huh?_ Adora had said when she finally ate, because they never could use the words they meant.

Glimmer seemed like she thought Catra was lying, even though Catra couldn’t lie right now. She _didn’t_ feel sick. She felt hot, and angry, and she felt a swirling, viscous foreboding filling up her insides, but she didn’t feel sick.

Glimmer and Bow wouldn’t stop peeking worried glances over at her, like she was about to fall over dead. Like _this_ was the worst thing that had ever happened to her. They didn’t even react to her hisses or snarls, but they did soon realize she was not going to participate in their “What do we do with poor, useless Catra?” meeting.

Catra wondered if they had ever thought of her as anything other than Adora’s problem pet.

Then she wondered if that thought belonged to her or the corruption.

Maybe there wasn’t a difference.

She let them whisper amongst themselves, interrogating Chinara for more information instead of listening to what Catra already told them. Catra obliged them by pretending to be invisible.

“Catra,” Fae said.

Catra startled, elbowing Koldo.

“Forget I existed again?” Fae said, sarcastic.

“I’m not in the mood for talking,” Catra said. The words were less acerbic than she intended because she had, in fact, all but forgotten the girl had existed.

“The lady left,” Fae said.

Catra had to admit that she had been too caught up in her head to realize the tent was empty. She really had gotten complacent in Bright Moon.

Fae lifted her tied hands. “Get me out of these?”

“Why not?” Catra said.

Fae scooted forward, pulling herself closer. She lifted her joint hands towards Catra’s claws.

“Whoa, watch it, kid,” Catra said. “These are sharp.”

“Oh,” Fae said. “Like this?” She held her hands down lower so Catra could reach the rope holding them.

“That’ll work,” Catra said, taking a swipe at the fist rope.

“Adora was out of line,” Fae said.

Catra snorted. This girl really did not like Adora. Catra didn’t think _anyone_ didn’t like Adora. And even so, Catra still didn’t understand how anyone wouldn’t enjoy watching Adora punch that lady. Catra had wanted to punch her—what had she kept saying? _Ponytail?—_ but it turned out watching Adora hit her was better.

“We’re supposed to be building alliances,” Fae said, angry.

“What’s your problem with Adora?” Catra said, half-laughing. Catra was, after all, the premier expert in “having a problem with Adora,” but how could Fae be? Adora had saved Etheria, and it wasn’t like _Fae_ had been abandoned by her best friend as soon as she found some new friends and a sword.

Catra was still maneuvering to find the right angle and swipe through the last of Fae’s ropes, ideally without nicking the girl. It didn’t help that Fae kept moving her own wrists to avoid the sharp edges of Catra’s claws. Catra realized it had been a lot easier with Adora, who had held perfectly still and trusted Catra not to hurt her. Catra looked toward the tent’s exit, trying to see anything outside. What was Adora _doing_?

When Catra looked up, Fae had a weird look on her face. “I don’t have a _problem_ ,” she said. “She just shouldn’t have done that.”

“Normally she wouldn’t,” Catra said. “She’s just—” She was going to say “gone crazy,” but that wasn’t it, was it? “Worried.” _About me_. _About me ruining everything._ What had Adora said? _Zilharr can deal with its own magic._ Catra never thought she’d hear _Adora_ giving up on something. But maybe Adora was right. Adora was usually right, in the end.

“She gets away with everything,” Fae said, frustrated.

Catra huffed. She spent so much time thinking that. And it was never true. It wasn’t Adora’s fault she had corrupted the magic. It wasn’t Adora’s fault her intention hadn’t been “pure and honest” enough for this stupid, sandy planet. She had tried, too. She had tried to be the one to rebuild things instead of destroy them.

“No,” Catra said quietly, “she never got away with anything.” Adora didn’t have to. She was good. She didn’t have a gnarled, rotten part inside her. Catra knew there was a reason everybody treated Adora so differently from her—Shadow Weaver, and Lonnie, the whole planet. Why else was it so hard for her to do anything good? So hard to be more like Adora, and Glimmer, and Bow?

Fae startled violently, pulling at her wrists. The rope cut free through Catra’s claws, but sliced a shallow line on Fae’s palm as she pulled away.

“Hey!” Catra said, seeing blood drip from the cut on Fae’s hand.

“Are you okay?” Koldo asked.

“I’m great,” Fae said, and turned to go.

“Hey!” Catra said again, more angry this time. “A little help?” but Fae didn’t turn around.

“And, another one,” Bow said as Fae left.

“Is she serious?” Catra said in outrage. She noticed Glimmer looking at her with a stupid, pitying look. “What?” she snapped.

“I was right,” Glimmer said, unbearably smug.

“You are not,” Catra said. “She just has some vendetta against She-Ra.”

“I wonder,” Glimmer said, her face still annoying and scrunched up, “why.”

Koldo sighed. “She _is_ right, you know.”

Catra startled and narrowed her eyes at him. “About what?”

“It’s obvious,” he said, offended. “That your bet or whatever is about whether Fae’s still in love with you.”

Bow grimaced. “Sorry, buddy.”

“Maybe she’ll change her mind,” Glimmer said. “When she realizes that y’know—” She nods at Catra. “That’s not gunna work out.”

“You’re all delusional,” Catra said. “She has an ulterior motive. She just knew you-all would buy the… crush thing.”

“Uh-huh, Catra,” Glimmer said.

“Why should it matter to you whether Fae’s in love with Catra?” Chinara said, leaning away from her brother a little to look at his face.

They all stared at Chinara.

“Really,” Glimmer said.

“He’s been like, super obvious,” Bow said. He leaned over to look at Koldo. “Sorry.”

Koldo shrugged. “I haven’t been hiding it.”

“Hiding what?” Chinara demanded.

“That I like her,” Koldo said, eyes wide and embarrassed.

“You _do_?” Chinara said.

“Why did you think I snuck her on the ship?” he said.

“I thought you were doing it to get back at me,” Chinara said quietly.

“For what?” he said.

“For dragging you into this!” she said.

“I wanted to go, Chi,” Koldo said, pronouncing the nickname like “chee.” “I begged to go.”

Catra looked at Glimmer, and they both mouthed “chee” at each other in delight.

“I could have gone by myself,” Chinara said. “Father wanted me to. I should have protected you and now we’re going to die in the Desert of Scars with the Etherians.”

Chinara started crying, which Catra found disappointing. What was the point in torturing her if she was going to torture herself?

Koldo was consoling Chinara by awkwardly nudging her with his shoulder—they really were weird—when the tremors began again. These were more violent than they’d felt since the ship, and seemed to go on forever. Catra looked up to watch the integrity of the tent, but it held steady. When the shaking finally ceased, Catra noticed the screams outside. They were getting louder, more frenzied. The ground underneath her palms still trembled. There was a metallic-clanging crash, metal on metal.

“Blue Tongue,” Chinara said, voice still raspy with tears.

“Shit.” Catra tucked her knees to her chest and used her feet’s claws to cut the rope at her wrists. She sprang to her feet.

“You could have done that the whole time?” Glimmer whined.

“Obviously,” Catra said, crouching to untie Glimmer.

Glimmer turned to Bow once she was free. She looked over her shoulder at Catra. “What are you doing? Help them.”

Catra folded her arms. “Why?”

“We can’t just leave them here,” Bow said.

“I think we can,” Catra said.

Bow was already out of his restraints, he and Glimmer helping Chinara and Koldo.

“Thanks a lot, Catra,” Glimmer said.

There was another rumbling, and the tremors worsened.

“Would you hurry up?” Catra squeaked.

“We would have been quicker if you had helped in the first place,” Bow said.

“We would have been quick _est_ if we had left the Creepy Twins here,” Catra said, backing out of the tent. “Come on, come on.” She urged them as they helped Chinara and Koldo to their feet and exited the tent.

The campsite was chaos. More tents were down than still standing, canvas and poles sticking up and fallen over in every direction. The rumbling beneath their feet continued, on and on. People were screaming and running around, a million small emergencies, and a few big ones—Catra ran past a tent engulfed in flames.

And still no sign of Adora. Or the Blue Tongue, and Catra knew Adora would be wherever the giant lizard was. Catra was running more or less aimlessly, unable to find her bearings in the chaos of the campsite. Any order the tents may have had was completely lost as they fell down or burned. 

Eventually, Bow grabbed her arm. “Catra!” He pointed behind them. Another tent was collapsing in that direction, revealing the massive, purplish skink. Its scales reflected in the pink light of the sunlight. It would have been beautiful if it weren’t currently destroying everything with lazy, graceful flicks of its tail. Catra followed Bow and Glimmer toward it. She didn’t know, or care, where Chinara and Koldo had gone.

Catra knew for sure they were going the right way when everyone started running away from it.

As they were dodging through fleeing people and fallen belongings, they finally reached a more open area, in view of the beast. The Blue Tongue had nosed into one of the bigger tents, exploring its interior. It seemed distracted enough by whatever was inside that it wasn’t currently threatening anyone.

In the open space was Dahl, Naj, two little kids, a vat of some kind of slimy yellowish substance, and Adora, leaning into the vat of goo, the stuff covering her arms up to her elbows. She looked over, still bent over the container, hair falling into her eyes. “Hey,” she said, face softening.

“Having fun?” Catra said, keeping her distance.

“What? No! I’m—we have a plan, Catra,” she grumbled.

“Let me guess,” Catra said. “The aliens,” she looked at Dahl and Naj, “told you to stick your arms in goop.”

Adora pulled her arms out of the liquid, making a soft _plop_ as her fingertips parted from the surface. Adora stood up, holding her goop-covered arms out in front of her.

Catra took a step back, running into Glimmer and Bow.

“I decided it, not them,” Adora said, testy. She turned to Dahl, her arms still held out in front of her. “Okay, now what?”

Dahl held her hands up on either side. “I mean, just spread it around the area, I guess.”

Adora started leaving globs of the stuff around the cleared area. Catra, Glimmer, and Bow retreated even further. Adora looked at Dahl. “Aren’t you gunna help?”

“I didn’t tell you to use your _hands_ ,” Dahl said, seemingly in shock.

Adora began using two hands to palm the goop out of the container and fling it out into the clearing. The kids started giggling.

“Adora, are you—uh—okay?” Bow said, as they all watched Adora furiously try to flick the goop off her fingertips.

“It’s hard to get off your skin,” Dahl said, as if talking to one of the kids. “I told you it _attracts_ the Blue Tongue, right?”

“We don’t—” _Fling_. “have any” _Flick._ “time!” Adora roared, gathering another palmful of the stuff.

Another crash came, and the Blue Tongue moved, fast, its tail sweeping over them all in the clearing. Catra could feel the air displaced by the giant thing as it arced through the sky. Catra braced for a fight. But the skink had just been spinning around to burrow into the sand beyond. 

Fae came running back into the clearing. “What the hell are you doing?” she screamed at Adora. “Are you She-Ra or not?”

Adora had started trying to wipe the goop off on the sand—an idiotic, quite obviously doomed endeavor, leaving her hands and her legs covered in both the gel and sand. Her left hand was still bandaged from the burn the shard had given her, making the process even harder. She slid her palms together as if one goop-and-sand covered hand might be able to clear the other. Her nose was peeling so much now it looked almost grotesque, her whole face was red as her jacket, and her eyes were filling with tears from frustration. And through it all, Catra could still hear her muttering under her breath _For the honor of Grayskull!_ Every single time she did she got a dumb, hopeful look in her eyes, like maybe this time, it would work. Maybe this time she could make it work.

Naj lifted an eyebrow delicately. “Her?”

“Ponytail?” Dahl said incredulously.

Catra had enough. She had enough of giant lizards, and doubting whether there was any goodness left inside her, and anybody thinking that Adora was in any way unworthy of being the ridiculous magic savior of the universe.

Catra hopped over a puddle of goop, drew Adora upright, put her hands on either side of Adora’s surprised, open face, and kissed her. Adora smelled like the goop now—a little rotten, acidic, she had sand on her lips, and she leaned into the kiss like she always did. Catra didn’t let her go until Catra felt something settle in her, a stone falling through a storm, whatever it was that made Catra feel that she had finally, finally landed.

“Okay,” Catra said, breaking away, “now do it.”

Adora’s eyes were wide. She leaned forward a little, like she was not going to let the kiss end there, but Catra put a hand on her chest. “Not now, princess.”

Adora kept staring at her, nonplussed.

Catra threw her head back. “Okay, fine,” she growled. She met Adora’s eyes, blue as the sky behind her. “I love you.”

“Nothing?” Catra said, after a beat of silence, Adora looking pleased but not eight feet tall.

“I love you, too,” Adora said, eyes unfocused, the words rushed but not rote, like she was sorry she had not already said them. Catra felt a surge of relief. She hadn’t realized how much she had wanted to hear Adora say that since she had noticed the spots on her neck, the marks of corruption.

“No, not that.” Catra fought to sound exasperated.

Adora’s face fell.

“Okay, yes, always that, but Adora—still nothing?” Catra said, tension leaking into her voice. “We have a really big, angry lizard—”

“Oh!” Adora said. “Oh.” She smirked and raised her hand, casually. “For the honor of Grayskull,” she said, not yelling, just smiling, and there was She-Ra. She looked at Catra. “Probably just the kiss would have worked.” She winked.

Catra didn’t know who she was kidding. Catra had taken the vial so Adora couldn’t. Not to save Zilharr, some planet she didn’t know and didn’t care about. Definitely not to help Chinara, yet another person who just wanted to use She-Ra. Catra had no “pure and honest intention” to help a bunch of strangers and she didn’t care to. She wasn’t like Adora, or Glimmer or Bow or the princesses, and she never would be. And it was fine—it was a good thing. They needed someone like her. Someone ruthless and suspicious and mean. Someone who looked out for them, and didn’t care if they were hated. It was better this way. Catra could swear she could feel the corruption coursing through her, sharp and cold. Why was she still fighting it? What if this was exactly who she was?

The Blue Tongue emerged from the sand, and they were ready. Catra extended her claws. She had never needed their kind of magic.


	18. Chapter 18

Koldo was scared, jealous, shockingly sweaty and he felt _alive_. He knew in a distant sort of way that this said more about his boring little life than it did about this day, but that didn’t matter. He was prepared to enjoy it while it lasted. Which, judging by the acceleration of events over the past two weeks, might not be long.

More than anything else, Koldo was in awe. He couldn’t even decide whether he was more enthralled by She-Ra or the writhing Blue Tongue behind her. Koldo had loved all the Zilharran creatures he learned about growing up. Maybe because there were always pictures, a welcome respite from the blocks of text. Maybe because they were beautiful, dangerous, and so clearly belonged to a different world. And the Blue Tongue was more of all these things than any other.

The pictures of the giant skink were always in color, showing off that impossibly bright color of its eponymous tongue, used for smell and navigation. The scales were always incandescent in the same sunlight Koldo only had ever felt back then in small, treasured doses. And although the books insisted that the Blue Tongues could be dangerous because of their size, they also wrote that the giant skinks lived peacefully alongside the other Zilharrans livings in the Desert of Scars.

Koldo actually knew a lot less about She-Ra—Satellite had thought she was a myth before word spread of her defeat of Horde Prime. But Koldo didn’t need to know much to feel her presence. He felt loosened, like all of his joints were freer, his blood pumping faster.

He stared up at She-Ra, glowing and golden, and he thought: we’re going to save Zilharr.

“Your magic does use kissing,” Koldo said, delighted. He was standing near Glimmer and Bow, who both cheered when Adora transformed into She-Ra.

“I think it’s more about Adora’s emotional state,” Bow started explaining excitedly. “The kissing is correlative rather than caus—”

Koldo saw Glimmer give Bow the same look of incredulity he knew he was making.

Bow threw his hands up in good-natured surrender. “Yeah, it kinda does use kissing.”

“I can feel it,” Koldo said. “She-Ra’s magic.” He laughed. He looked around the clearing at the happy, easy faces of Naj and Dahl. The little kids had run right up to She-Ra, reached their hands up to the tops of her boots. She-Ra crouched down to them and told them to find somewhere safe. They nodded in shocked wonder. Even Chinara’s face had softened at the sight of She-Ra. Fae was the only person who seemed unaffected by her magic. She had turned away from She-Ra—and Catra—to rummage around the wreckage of a fallen tent. She found one of the weapons they had used to capture them at their own camp. She met his eyes as she straightened and he saw that hers were wet. She wiped them on her sleeve and met his questioning look as if to dare him to say anything about it.

“Okay, guys,” She-Ra said. “Help out here. I’ll handle the lizard.” She flattened her lips into a grim line. Her features were different as She-Ra, Koldo realized. Her eyes bluer, her facial structure stronger. Koldo tried to memorize the way she looked—powerful, ethereal. He wanted to draw her.

“Are you in love with her now, too?” Fae said from beside him.

Koldo turned to her, stared at her for several long moments. She was beautiful. The tight curls of her dark hair tied by her ponytail, her eyes fierce, her features lifted, focused. He thought about how brave she was to approach him, to convince him to help her sneak on the ship. He had thought that she was like him. That she wanted to discover new worlds, that she was entranced by the wonders of the universe. But maybe he was wrong. Maybe all she wanted was as much as she said—to win allies, to succeed in some political game that, as far as Koldo could tell, she was interested in playing more than winning. He thought that maybe all Fae had really wanted was for someone to recognize that she had been wronged.

“Really?” Koldo said dryly.

“I just don’t _get_ it,” Fae said. “Magic is so _unfair_.”

“What?” Koldo said. “No, it’s not. It’s the only power in the universe that gives as much as it takes.”

Fae looked at him hard for a moment. She groaned, threw her head back. “Why does nothing ever go how I think it will?”

Koldo tried to keep a straight face, but he couldn’t help it, he laughed and laughed. Fae stuck her tongue out at him, said, “I’m gunna go help the villagers.” She shouted to everyone at the clearing. “Let it be known that the Fright Zone is aiding civilians!”

“The Fright Zone?” Dahl said, as Fae ran off and Koldo joined the group close to She-Ra. “That’s a real place?”

“Unfortunately,” Catra said.

“It’s bizarre that a Blue Tongue would do this,” Naj said, continuing as if they hadn’t interrupted. Her long earrings sparkled in the last rays of the sunset as her head shook, side to side. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Has it been corrupted, too, do you think?” Bow said.

Chinara nodded. “I’ve been wondering the same thing.”

Dahl rolled her eyes. “Sure, blame everything on the corruption.”

“Oh, like the _worms_ ,” Glimmer said. “You didn’t infect it with First Ones tech again, did you?” Glimmer said to Catra, smirking.

“Okay, _I_ didn’t infect the worm things,” Catra said, “I only infected Ador—” Her eyes cut to She-Ra and Glimmer snickered.

“You infected Adora with something?” Chinara said to Catra. She shook her head, as if stuck on a difficult puzzle. “I do not understand the nature of your relationship.”

Both Glimmer and She-Ra were snorting with laughter.

“I am not going to apologize for things with her around.” Catra pointed at Chinara without looking at her, her cheeks flushed.

Glimmer and She-Ra laughed harder.

A plume of sand rose from beyond the encampment as the Blue Tongue dove into the sand again.

“It doesn’t matter if we can’t un-corrupt it, anyway,” She-Ra said, wiping her eyes. “I can take it.”

“She-Ra can take that thing?” Catra said, sobered.

She-Ra nodded solemnly. “Yeah.”

The ground shook hard enough to send a nearby tent swaying.

“Try to move everyone toward the center of camp,” She-Ra said. “I’ll do my best to draw it away, but I might have to fight it where it is.”

“Send up a signal if you get into trouble, okay, Adora?” Bow said.

She-Ra nodded, spinning around as the earth trembled once again. “See you soon!” she called over her shoulder. Koldo watched her head straight for the burning wreckage of a huge tent, confused about why she wasn’t looking for a more open path, but then watched in actual open-mouthed amazement as she leaped above the flames, landing on some kind of magic, glowing plate, and then disappeared to the other side.

“She’s… really She-Ra,” was the first thing Dahl said.

“Obviously,” Catra hissed.

“She defeated Horde Prime,” Dahl said.

“ _We_ defeated Horde Prime,” Glimmer corrected.

Dahl’s slack, amazed expression turned into a wolfish grin. She turned to Naj. “We captured the Etherians who defeated Horde Prime. We captured She-Ra. I cannot wait to tell the Laterians next time we’re in town.”

A plume of smoke reached up into the ever-dimming sky and the ground rumbled once again.

“I don’t think She-Ra could be captured for long,” Naj said with a wry smile. “Or her friends.” She nodded at them, and although Koldo wasn’t certain Adora would actually count him as her friend, he felt warmed by the idea that Naj thought so. Her voice rang out throughout the clearing as she commanded: “And she’s right. Let’s gather everyone into the main tent.”

Koldo followed close by Dahl’s side, per her orders, until even she gave up on the illusion of keeping an eye on him during the chaos. Bow and Glimmer ran off to help by themselves, and Chinara was with Catra. Catra had insisted Chinara stay with her. Catra seemed to think Chinara had some grand, evil scheme that she would implement as soon as she had a chance. Koldo was pretty sure his sister had no idea what she was doing, but he was not about to argue with Catra about it.

Dahl was organizing a group to search through the encampment and make sure everyone knew where they were supposed to be meeting. The task was more difficult than it seemed since so many were reluctant to leave their homes. Dahl and the others were trying to cover as much ground as possible, so she just nodded when Koldo volunteered to take a sector of the encampment himself.

He hadn’t considered the fact that he would be the last person able to convince these people to do something they already didn’t want to do. The first family he approached, their tent fearfully close to where She-Ra had disappeared to battle the Blue Tongue, was desperately trying to pack up their belongings. The woman was trying to soothe the toddler on her hip, and two older kids were trying to pack cookware. She took one look at Koldo and put herself between him and the kids, screaming at him to leave. Her fear and anger were so extreme that Koldo didn’t consider arguing. He ran.

No one listened. It wasn’t until the third tent that a kid around his own age shoved him to the ground, the assault more shocking than painful. Koldo sat on the sand. That was the next tent in front of him, wasn’t it? Or had he stumbled to another row? They all looked the same. He was starting to lose track of things. The earlier rush of adrenaline was subsiding. His focus had flattened, leaving him dazed.

A man ran from a billowing cloud of smoke and straight at Koldo, nearly tripping over him in his haste. He reached to help Koldo, and then stopped, stumbled away in fear. It must be the clothes. His head, too. The markings his father had so carefully inked onto his skull when he turned thirteen, one of the few gifts he had ever received.

Koldo reached behind his back and grabbed hold of the length of fabric that hung there, the part Catra called, with derision, a cape. He had long resented this uniform, his father’s many refusals to allow Koldo to alter it or make something different. He felt the stitching at the top, the threads loosened by hard wear over the last week, and ripped the fabric along the seam. He folded the black fabric and wrapped it around his skull, tying it in the back. He tried to mimic the way the Basa people wrapped the fabric around their heads during travel, although the shape of the fabric wasn’t right for it. The end result was lumpy and uncomfortable, but it at least would conceal his skull markings.

He stood, feeling lighter and stronger. Some of the dark smoke cleared and Koldo got his bearings back, rushing to the next tent. This one was empty, and the next, but in the next after he found a family. Two men were rushing to pack clothing, supplies, weapons. Their infant was wailing in the corner, and Koldo could see the same lines of stress on all three of their faces. He decided he wouldn’t leave until they listened to him.

“Everyone’s gathering at the main tent,” Koldo said.

The men looked at him in surprise, but waited for him to continue.

“They’re containing the Blue Tongue.” Koldo pointed behind them. “It’s close to you. It’s too dangerous for you to stay here.” Koldo had a mad urge to say, “Its tail can grow up to four times its body length,” and just barely managed to stop himself from repeating the line from his old textbook.

The men looked at each other, and the one with short hair finally said, “I’m better with the crossbow.”

The main with braided hair shook his head. “A crossbow won’t do _anything_ on an adult, much less kill it.”

But the man with short hair was already retrieving his bow from a hook on the tent-wall. He turned to Koldo, as if just remembering he existed, and clapped him on the shoulder. “Thank you, kid. Take them there, okay?”

“It’s not the same, Takou,” the man with the long braids said. He watched his husband gather a pack. “This is a mistake.”

Takou rolled his eyes at this and kissed him on the cheek. “Mykola,” he said in a wheedling sing-song. “I’ll be back.” He gathered up the baby from their crib, who started mewling as they woke up, kissed his head, and put him in Mykola’s arms.

All at once, Koldo realized what they had to be talking about. “You can’t!” he shouted at Takou as he turned to brush past Koldo and leave the tent.

Takou turned and looked at Koldo with a raised eyebrow.

“You can’t kill it,” Koldo said.

“I’ve hunted them before,” Takou said. “We took out an entire den last month.” He was looking past Koldo at his husband. “I’ll meet up with the other hunters.”

“You killed them?” Koldo said. “The Blue Tongues?” He could hear the shock in his own voice.

Both men seemed to still at this. “You’re not gunna tell Naj, are you kid?” Takou said.

Koldo stared at them. At least they believed he was a Basa kid.

“Listen,” Takou said, “there’s no time now.” He was looking at Koldo intently, even as he fit the crossbow to his fingers, readied himself for battle. “I’ll find you after we take care of the Blue Tongue.” He startled, seeming amused by a thought. “You’re of age, aren’t you? You can join us next time!”

“Takou,” Mykola said in reproach.

Koldo could hardly even process what he was hearing. They were killing the Blue Tongues? First of all, Koldo hadn’t thought such a thing was possible. They were some of the most well-protected creatures in existence, stronger and bigger than any other known land animal on Zilharr. But more than that, the Blue Tongues were gentle.

One of the greatest Zilharran chroniclers of the Blue Tongues was a man who had lived before even Koldo’s grandparents, who had believed the Blue Tongues highly intelligent. He believed their memories were so long and accurate that one of the creatures he had studied decades ago actually remembered him when he encountered it again. Koldo knew from the evidence of his own eyes now that the pictures were accurate—maybe the rest of it was, too. And although they had all made fun of Fae when she thanked the Blue Tongue for pulling them out of the sand, Koldo thought she was right. He thought the Blue Tongue had saved them.

“You can’t!” Koldo said, again.

“Why?”

“She-Ra!” Koldo yelled.

“What?” they both said.

“She-Ra’s here, haven’t you heard? She’s taking care of the Blue Tongue.”

Takou and Mykola exchanged a look. “We did feel… something,” Mykola said.

Koldo was right—these people _felt_ She-Ra, like he and Chinara did.

“Wait,” Mykola said, rocking the baby in his arms. “Naj changed her mind? She’s allowing She-Ra to kill the Blue Tongue?”

_Kill_ , Koldo thought, his tongue curling on the ugliness of the word. Koldo was stupid. Of course that’s what She-Ra was going to do. He had assumed that the Etherians meant they were going to restrain the Blue Tongue. But the Etherians were warriors. She-Ra had appeared, strong and tall and lethal, an equally lethal-looking sword in her hand. He thought of the way she leaped over a tent like it was nothing. She was going to kill it.

Maybe Koldo’s tutor, his father, Chinara, Fae were all right. Maybe he hadn’t been ready to leave the Spire. He was too naïve. Too trusting. What had he thought was going to happen? It was just a big lizard to them. Even to these Zilharrans, maybe even to Chinara.

The ground shook beneath their feet, hard enough that Takou and Mykola braced against each other, cradling the baby between them. The Blue Tongue was a danger to them all, Koldo understood that. But he kept thinking of the words he had to memorize because he couldn’t parse them in print, some of the few lines that he actually had been glad to memorize, the researcher describing his encounter with the same Blue Tongue he had tracked two decades previous, upon meeting her again: _She knew me, even after all those years. She remembered._

How could Koldo turn his back on the creatures he had loved so much as a child? How could he forget the nights he would think about the stories of the Blue Tongues traveling for days on end without stopping to get back to their young?

“The _den_ ,” he realized, his eyes going wide. Maybe this Blue Tongue wasn’t acting strangely at all. He thought of the cracks in the ground, newly formed, around the campsite. Had Chinara been thinking the same thing? “I think I know what’s going on. Please, follow me. We need to talk to Naj,” and, to his surprise, they did.

* * *

Catra was not “helping families get to safety” or whatever princess thing Glimmer and Bow called it. She was securing the perimeter, which meant running interference for She-Ra’s messy battle-style, which meant she would know if the giant skink was too much for the great and powerful She-Ra. She was also watching Chinara, who as far as Catra was concerned was still her prisoner. Catra was almost hoping Chinara would try something so the others would finally agree to leave her behind.

Catra had found a few people still in these tents nearest She-Ra’s battle with the Blue Tongue. She told them to get lost, first. Some of them seemed inclined to fight her on it, but Catra’s snarls and claws were sufficient persuasion.

At first, Catra tried to keep the tents upright. But she soon realized that this was futile—the ground hadn’t stopped moving since Adora went to fight the lizard. Catra started taking the tents down before they could fall instead, so she could at least control the damage. Catra smirked to herself. “Strategic destruction” was sort of her forte.

“What are you doing?” Chinara said, sounding outraged. She was, per Catra’s orders, staying mostly out of the way, cowering over in a cleared space within Catra’s eyeline, but she piped up when she saw Catra dismantling the ties of the first tent.

“Do you think I answer to you now?” Catra helped a tent pole fall to the ground. “ _Chee?”_ she said with glee.

Chinara did not rise to this bait the way Catra had hoped. In fact, she stayed quiet for several long minutes until she said, “Oh.” She stood. “You’re right. They’re going to fall anyway. Can I help?” She pushed back the hanging fabric of her long black sleeves.

Catra rolled her eyes. “Put it together, did you?” She nodded at the length of canvas from what had been a tent. “Go ahead, knock yourself out. Fold it.”

Catra was still feeling powerful and energized from her realization. She had spent the last day wracked with worry that she was corrupting the magic, but now everything was different. She had accepted the corruption inside her. And now, Catra could be herself again, rude and selfish and uninterested in the well-being of strangers. All in all, it was a _relief_ to know she was corrupting it.

But there was one problem.

“So, _Chee_ ,” Catra said, snickering at the stupid nickname. “This corruption—” She waved a hand, “stuff.”

Chinara cut her eyes to Catra warily. “Yes?”

“Let’s say I am corrupting it,” Catra continued. “Okay. But I don’t even feel sick or whatever.”

Chinara sighed. “As I said before, we know little about the illness that struck the underground dwellers, or if it was a result of corruption. But, fortunately, we do know that it took many weeks for any of those recorded by my mother to… succumb.”

“To die.” Catra dared Chinara to deny it.

“Yes,” Chinara said, lowering her eyes. “I know you’ll never forgive me. Especially now, after this. But—I want to say, that I did not anticipate this happening to you.”

Catra started laughing. “Oh, now you’re apologizing?” She shook her head. “It’s not your fault I took the vial. You told me not to. It’s not even your fault I’m corrupting it.”

Chinara raised an eyebrow. “You… believe you’re corrupting it?”

Catra rolled her eyes. “Come on. You don’t have to pretend when they’re not around. We both know I am.”

Chinara stayed silent.

“That’s not actually what I’m talking about,” Catra said. “I—look—” She dropped the rope she had been using to tie poles together, and turned to face Chinara. Chinara met her gaze. “Can I still do it, then? If I’m corrupting it, will it still work at the source?”

Chinara frowned. “You still care about the source?”

Catra snorted. “I never cared about this place.”

“Then why did you take it to begin with?”

“So Adora couldn’t _obviously_ ,” Catra snarled. “But she cares about your stupid planet. They all do.” She threw her hand back to indicate Glimmer and Bow. “So tell me. Is there any chance of this working still?”

Chinara narrowed her eyes. “When your body accepted the vial’s magic without major consequences—only the pains in reaction to dishonesty, I was quite relieved. Truly corrupted magic has much, much worse effects. You saw how the shard affected Adora.”

“I didn’t forget,” Catra snapped.

Chinara nodded. “You haven’t shown signs of anything close. Your symptoms are nothing like those caused by truly corrupt magic. Especially since you are carrying such a high, concentrated dose of the magic. It suggests that whatever corruption has manifested in what you ingested is, so far… minimal.”

“You’re saying I can still do it?” Catra said, staring down Chinara. “It’ll still work? I just have to get there before it kills me?”

“I believe so.”

“And then—” Catra raised a hand to the spots she knew were on her neck, dropped her hand when she realized what she was doing. “Then the illness. It’ll stop too?”

Chinara sighed. “You should not rely on my guesswork when your life is at stake.”

“I don’t have much of a choice,” Catra said sharply. “Don’t worry, I’m used to it.”

Chinara threw her arms up. “ _If_ the sickness is a result of the corruption, and _if_ the corrupted portion of the magic leaves your body with the rest of it when you ignite the source, then it would stand to reason your illness would halt, too. Unless the illness only uses the corruption as a catalyst, and then continues on its own, in which case…”

“It doesn’t matter anyway,” Catra said. “I already have it.”

“Yes.” Chinara was looking at her with something like sympathy.

Catra gelt a grin forming on her face. “Good thing I don’t get sick.” She could still do this. She was forged in the Fright Zone, hardened by years of brutal training and cruel punishments and abuse, and she was not going to let a _sickness_ take her down.

* * *

She-Ra was powerful, but so, Adora was finding, was a giant skink the size of Bright Moon Palace. Adora wasn’t used to She-Ra having actual limits—not when she felt like this, anyway. Strong, secure, loved and determined to protect those she loved. When she was like this this, Adora figured She-Ra could do anything. She had battled spaceships _in space_ , she had dispelled Horde Prime’s spirit from his host. And yet She-Ra still tumbled through the sand as the skink landed a particularly well-timed thwack with its tail, sending her to the ground so hard and fast that Adora thought she might very well have died from the impact if she weren’t protected by She-Ra. She had been trying to land a strike of magic to the lizard’s head to debilitate it. The magic had bounced off the skink’s scales. Adora had never seen anything deflect She-Ra’s magic.

The fall _hurt_ , too. Did things usually hurt this much when she was She-Ra? Had she just not noticed during the adrenaline of battle?

As soon as she was out of its way, the Blue Tongue had turned back to the camp. Was the cactus goop really that attractive to it? Adora thought she’d be able to distract the skink enough to lead it away from the camp and defeat it far away. She would have to grab the vat of the attractant. It was too difficult to fight the skink and guard the camp at the same time.

She sprung to her feet and leaped onto the back of the Blue Tongue, crouching on all fours to keep her balance. The giant skink shuddered, as if reacting to her presence. Adora noticed its presence, too. She felt an energy rising from its beautiful, gleaming scales. The sky had darkened from blue to a deep navy, the last of the sun’s light shining a deep but dimming red light in the last minutes of the day.

This creature wasn’t like the First One’s security spiders, brutal but mindless. This beast was magical, Adora realized. She wondered if this creature had been affected by the corruption of Zilharr, too. Maybe it had grown into the thing of destruction it was because of the planet’s cloud of suspicion and anger. Maybe this lizard had been completely normal before these people corrupted the source and started spewing hatred in the air. Maybe the Blue Tongue had fought it the best it could until it finally succumbed.

Adora’s hands were shaking on the sword. She couldn’t think about whatever was happening to Catra right now. _One thing at a time_ , she told herself. She thought of Catra’s self-satisfied grin when her confession did, in fact, help her transform into She-Ra once again. Catra had seemed so completely confident it would work, so sure in her abilities.

She-Ra leapt off of the Blue Tongue’s back and back into the clearing where they started. She was relieved to find the area clear of people, but the vat of the yellow gel stuff was right where she left it. She-Ra picked it up with two hands and sprinted back into the desert with it. She was almost gliding on the sand she was running so fast. She paused after a few seconds to wait to watch the Blue Tongue’s reaction. It had paused when she had leapt off its back, but it was not turning back. What was it waiting for? Dahl had said this was their entire supply—there shouldn’t be anything else back at camp the skink wanted.

The Blue Tongue burrowed its head into the sand. Adora couldn’t allow it to fully submerge. Even She-Ra couldn’t fight something if she didn’t know where it was, and under the ground it could strike anywhere. She pursued it at top speed. Adora still didn’t have the sense that it was targeting any of the people specifically, but she couldn’t afford to allow it to roam free any longer. If anyone was sent flying by the lizard as she had been as She-Ra, they would surely be killed. Adora remembered seeing the underside of the Blue Tongue pressed into the windows of their ship. The scales there were placed differently than the smaller, more guarded scales along the lizard’s top.

She-Ra leapt, sliding underneath the skink’s belly to intercept it before it crawled back into the sand. She ran her sword between the skink’s pale yellow scales, one long wound finding its mark in the flesh under the narrow gap. The beast writhed above her for one terrifying moment, its body curling in on itself while She-Ra was still caught between it and the ground below. But She-Ra emerged on the other side and spun to put herself in between the Blue Tongue and the camp, and finally, the skink responded to the threat of her sword, and began its retreat into the desert.

The lizard shook its head, its eyes rolling back in pain. Adora felt a pang as she continued to threaten the skink, pushing it inexorably back, jabbing it here and there, watching the blood spill into the sand from the wounds she made. The lizard already seemed diminished after that one wound, but Adora, if she were being honest, was, too. Her body was aching, a bone-deep fatigue she had never experienced before. Something about this fight felt… ignoble. But Adora put aside her pity for the Blue Tongue and whatever it had once been. She was resolute. She would protect the Basa camp and her friends no matter what. This is what She-Ra was for.

* * *

Catra was still feeling a bright, sharp kind of confidence when she was interrupted in her work by none other than Koldo, with a family in tow, complete with an impossibly tiny and fragile-looking baby.

“Catra,” Koldo said with confidence, getting over his initial surprised look when he saw her, “you have to come with me.”

Catra paused her work dismantling yet another tent and shooed the family and their improbable baby away from the precarious structure.

She turned to Koldo, cracking her knuckles. “Ready for round two? Thought you’d never ask.”

Chinara, who had just re-emerged from the next massive piece of canvas she was trying to tidy into something more manageable, ran over to step beside Koldo.

Koldo lifted his hands. “No, no, no! Listen. You have to go kiss her again. She-Ra can’t kill the Blue Tongue.”

Catra took a deep breath and tried to remember that although she may be corrupt, she was still not just _punching defenseless people_ anymore. “It doesn’t work like that,” she said between her teeth.

The men behind Koldo’s expressions were turning from amused surprise to suspicion. “Who are you?” they said to Catra.

“She’s She-Ra’s wife!” Koldo said excitedly.

“I’m not—” Catra could actually feel herself blushing. “Whatever. I’m going to keep tearing down tents and you’re going to take them and the kid to the main tent. Get out of here.”

Koldo stepped in front of Catra as she turned around, both arms spread wide. “No! You can’t!”

Catra tried to convince herself the gesture didn’t remind her of a young Adora.

Koldo must have seen the hesitation in her face, because he pressed his advantage. “The Blue Tongues are magic.”

“Okay?” Catra made an open-palmed gesture to demand more.

“They don’t do things for no reason,” Koldo said. “There’s gotta be a reason it’s going after this place. Blue Tongues have incredible memories. I think she remembers this is where her den was. She won’t give up without finding it. I’m saying She-Ra won’t be able to keep it away.”

Catra shrugged, gestured over her shoulder. “She’s doing all right, actually.” Adora must have drawn the Blue Tongue far enough from camp for the moment that they couldn’t even see the monstrous thing over the dunes. All Catra could make out were intermittent plumes of sand spewing up from behind a far ridge, which she took to mean the battle was ongoing.

Koldo’s face broke. “She would have to kill it to keep it away.”

“So what?” Catra said.

“She-Ra is magic,” the main holding a crossbow said, as if just realizing it.

“Yes,” Catra drawled, “I’ve noticed.”

“One magical being can’t kill another,” the man with the baby said, like this was something everyone knew—and in fact even Koldo was nodding along, as if this made some kind of sense. “It’s permanently damaging, unless…has She-Ra found a way around the repercussion?” He sounded eager.

“What?” Catra demanded.

“The repercussion, you know,” the man said, bouncing the baby—Catra really wished he would get the thing away from her. “Has she figured out how to deflect it?” He was getting excited now, grimacing and scrunching up his face like how Entrapta did when somebody brought up space. “Don’t tell me! She uses a proxy, right?”

“She doesn’t have any idea what you’re talking about, Mykola,” the other man said, winking at Catra like they were old friends.

“So we have to stop her!” Koldo said. “She doesn’t know about the repercussion, does she?”

Catra frowned, her thoughts caught on “permanently damaging.” Adora must know that, right? Catra had assumed Adora would kill it, but Adora had probably meant she would incapacitate it. Catra didn’t know much of anything about how magic worked. Because of Shadow Weaver, she’d spent grown up thinking of magic as evil, as something that could only inflict pain. When Adora found the sword, Catra had thought of She-Ra as a parasite, leeching off of her best friend’s strength.

But. Adora used She-Ra to save Catra, to save the universe. Adora’s magic was _good_ , it was _Adora_. Catra had never asked Adora about the magical mechanics of She-Ra. After the war, Catra had hoped that Adora wouldn’t need to use her anymore, that She-Ra would eventually fade into their past. And when Catra did think about magic, she thought of it as a tool. A neutral force to be manipulated as its wielder wished.

Since she met the Zilharrans, Catra realized she hadn’t understood magic at all. Catra hadn’t believed all the Zilharrans’ talk of corrupted magic, at first. She figured it was just this planet’s way of justifying bad behavior, of their own Shadow Weavers trying to pawn off their own terrible actions as out of their control, a result of this bad magic. But then Adora had been affected by the shard. If Adora could be corrupted, then they were right. Magic wasn’t neutral, at least not all the time. That also meant the inverse could be true—Catra could be corrupting the vial’s magic.

Adora must at least know about this repercussion stuff, right? She had been She-Ra for years. But Catra thought of Adora confronting Horde Prime when she thought She-Ra was gone for good. Adora taking the fail safe even after Shadow Weaver admitted it could kill her.

Right. This was Adora. Even if she did know about the repercussion, it wouldn’t matter. She would do anything to protect them all.

Catra felt herself getting angry, thinking about Adora running off to sacrifice herself with a smile, without so much as a _Goodbye forever, Catra,_ but—

“Adora’s an _idiot_ ,” she said, barely reacting to the pain in her stomach when it came. She ran a hand down her face. She was thinking about Adora waking up from a coma, with no idea why it had happened. Bow and Glimmer said that she was “tired” after being She-Ra. Her friends knew next to nothing about She-Ra’s magic. “She doesn’t know about the repercussion.” She groaned. “She never knows what she’s doing with She-Ra, she just—does it.”

The man with the baby shifted a cloth over the little thing’s eyes. “It will be quite bad for her,” he said. “If she kills it.”

“Right,” Catra said, looking out into the dunes where she had last caught sight of She-Ra fighting the lizard. “I’ll stop her. I’m not magic. I can kill it.” Catra turned to Koldo. “Tell Sparkles to stay back, she’s magic too.”

“No!” Koldo said, reaching out, “you _can’t_!”

Catra shook him off, already bounding away.

* * *

Adora was tired. The suns had slipped beneath the horizon and the moons, half-full now, shone on the sand like snow. The Blue Tongue’s wound was bleeding freely, and its movements were both erratic and sluggish.

She-Ra stood before the skink’s massive head. She still had to look up to meet the skink’s umber eye. It seemed to focus on her and Adora thought, _Please, stop._ The lizard opened its mouth and extended its tongue into the cooling air. The tongue was an electric blue, and it was so close to Adora she could see the ridges and bumps of the muscle.

The Blue Tongue ceased its retreat and pulled its tongue back into its mouth. It lowered its jaws onto the ground. Its eye was still fixed on Adora, and she was sure, for an instant, that it had heard her.

She-Ra raised her sword. One clean jab of the sword and it would be over. Through the eye, to the brain. She-Ra lowered her sword and approached the Blue Tongue, instead. She laid a hand on the cool, smooth scale under its eye.

She felt—everything. It had been searching for years, desperate. She felt suns and moons, stars and sand, tunnels branching out for miles. Where were they? She knew this desert’s every ridge, the plates, weakened now, underneath. She could feel the others’ movements, above ground and below. But everything was changed, nothing was where it had been, or should be, and they weren’t here. They weren’t anywhere.

She-Ra tore her hand away from the Blue Tongue, and Adora felt She-Ra leave her as she transformed back into her normal body. She was on all-fours, gasping for breath. She felt the giant skink retreating further, and further, and she knew she should be worried—it would be back to the camp, it couldn’t leave without them—but Adora couldn’t move. She couldn’t do anything but feel the grief, as big and overwhelming as the Blue Tongue itself.

* * *

Catra spotted Adora on the ground, hugging her knees, Blue Tongue nowhere in sight.

“Adora?” Catra said, equal parts relieved and concerned. Was she hurt? Why was she just sitting there? “Did you kill it?” Catra took Adora’s face in her hands, forced her to look up. “Are you okay?” Adora’s eyes drifted, glazed. Adora was a mess—her hair half out of her ponytail, her face streaked with grime and blood, her jacket rumpled. Catra noticed the yellowish goop from before was back on her forearms and hands, congealed now. It came back after she came back from She-Ra? Catra thought. Magic was so _weird_.

“She was so lonely,” Adora said, and she looked far off still. “She’s been searching for years, and years. She didn’t understand—that they were gone. That she would never find them.”

Catra took Adora’s hands in hers, just to make her really look at her, to really be with her. “Adora,” she said. “Did you kill it?”

Adora stared for a moment, but then she shook her head.

Catra sighed in relief, squeezed Adora’s fingers. “Good.” Adora’s face was still alarmingly pale and indifferent. “It’s okay. You’re okay.” Catra felt her own pulse fly, scared of the blankness in Adora, scared of whatever would scare Adora.

“I don’t think she’ll stop—” Adora broke off, drew her hands away from Catra’s.

Catra looked at her own outstretched hands. She couldn’t even remember the last time Adora had pulled away from her. Catra was always the one pulling away, always the one who trusted Adora to come find her. Catra dropped her hands. “Who are you talking about? Is someone else here?” She looked around them in the desert, but there was nothing.

“It was terrible.” Adora wrapped her arms around her chest, curled her knees into her body. Adora was looking at her now, but her eyes were still dull.

Catra reached out again, but pulled her hand back before she actually touched Adora. She didn’t know what to do with Adora like this.

Adora focused on her, just a little bit. “I felt it all. Her…grief.” She raked her hands through her hair, so shaky Catra didn’t know how she didn’t pull her hair out. Adora reached out a little with one unsteady hand. “Will you… Catra?”

Catra took her hand between both of hers, but dropped it just as quickly, scooting forward to bracket Adora with her legs and hold her. A long shudder went through Adora, and she breathed long and hard, and softened in Catra’s arms, bit by bit.

“I’m sorry,” Adora said over her shoulder, several long minutes later. “I’m freaking out. I’m sorry.”

Catra pulled back again to look at her, and was relieved to see Adora’s eyes softer, more focused. “Are you okay?”

Adora didn’t answer. She reached out and touched Catra’s neck with her fingertips, so carefully, and Catra knew without knowing where the purple marks were that Adora was touching them, covering them with her hands, which were steady now. She met Catra’s eyes, and Adora was there again with her, and so was her fear. “You’re not going to go home, are you?” Adora said finally.

“Adora?” Bow called. “Catra?”

Catra heard Bow racing nearer, stumbling over the new cracks in the land to get to them, and Catra realized, looking at the defeat in Adora’s face, that she thought they had already lost. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did not expect this story to get emotionally attached to a very big magical lizard, but here we are. Thanks for all the kudos/ comments, lovely readers. :) The notifications for new comments are the best emails I get!


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone's having a lot of feelings.

“What happened?” Bow said.

Catra twisted the spout shut long after the water bottle in her hands overfilled. She didn’t seem to notice the water spilling onto the ground, or the censorious looks the casual waste was attracting. “I don’t know more than she told you.”

Bow reached over to make sure the spout was turned all the way off, hoping the Basa people in the tent with them would appreciate the show of good faith. There were only a handful of them, and judging by the way they averted their faces instead of wave back to Bow, they were much too scared of Bow, Catra, and Adora to do more than send them accusing glares.

After Bow found Catra and Adora out in the desert, he had led them back to the spacious tent where they had been held captive only hours ago. Someone had brought in little electric lamps and placed them, haphazardly, throughout the tent. The light was harsh and uneven, throwing light upwards onto Catra’s face in a way that Bow was trying hard not to think of as haunted. Adora was still sitting on the ground, knees pulled into her chest and faced away from the nearest lamp, little more than a dark smudge against the tent canvas.

“She seems…” Bow twisted to look at Adora, sitting on the ground, her knees pulled into her chest. “Messed up about something.”

“She’s not,” Catra snapped. “She’s fine.” She made to move past Bow back toward Adora.

Bow stepped in front of her, hands crossed in front of his chest. He tried to stay as nonthreatening as possible while still blocking her path. He waited for Catra to look at him.

She did, finally, and her shoulders lowered. “Sorry. Habit.”

“It’s okay,” Bow said, and couldn’t even guess which habit it was she wanted to apologize for.

“I don’t know what happened,” Catra said again. “She’s not hurt. She was—” Catra cut her eyes over to Adora’s hunched from. “like that when I got there.” She let out a big breath. “She… bonded with the thing, or something. She doesn’t want to kill it.”

“Oh,” Bow said. “Well if she can talk to it, then—”

“But she also said,” Catra continued, seemingly unable to stop now she had started, “it would come back! That she couldn’t stop it. She’s not making any sense.” Catra was squeezing the water bottle so hard Bow thought she might bend the metal.

“Why don’t I talk to her?” Bow said. “You could find Glimmer? She was off looking for Naj.”

Catra looked past his shoulder at Adora, expression worried and irritated at once. But when she noticed Bow looking at her with what he hoped was encouraging sympathy, her face froze, emotion wiped off in one clean, ruthless moment. Bow tried not to let his own disappointment show on his face, but he suspected he couldn’t hide his emotion as well as Catra could. He had thought Catra would trust him by now.

“Yeah. Sure.” Catra pushed the water bottle into his chest. “Maybe she’ll listen to you.” She slipped out of the tent.

Bow pinched the bridge of his nose. He shouldn’t have suggested Catra leave, it felt like she had taken it as a dismissal, or worse—as a rejection. His heart ached at how easily Catra assumed she was unwanted.

Bow sank down next to Adora. “Hey.”

No response. Her face was tucked into her knees. It struck Bow how rare such a visible show of—emotion was for Adora. He had spent years trying to encourage Adora to open up, and yet this felt—wrong.

Bow tapped Adora’s knee with the water bottle. “Catra says you should drink all this. At least, I think she did. She shoved the water bottle at me and left. I’m still learning how to translate Catra.”

Adora snorted, but Bow’s attempt toward levity went otherwise ignored. She lifted her chin to rest on her forearm, set across her knees. She looked pale, detached, and exhausted. Adora accepted the water bottle and drank.

“Thanks,” Bow said with exaggerated sincerity. “I don’t want to be caught defying orders.”

“Where’d she go?” Adora said, eyes flitting around the tent.

“Just to find Glimmer,” Bow reassured her.

Adora relaxed marginally.

“Adora.”

She looked up at him, looked away.

“The Blue Tongue,” he started. “You can communicate with it?”

“Sort of,” Adora mumbled.

“You’re worried it won’t listen?”

Adora stared off into the tent. “No,” she whispered. “I think she will. She doesn’t want to hurt anyone.” Adora set her forehead between her knees.

“Adora,” Bow tried again.

Adora squeezed her knees together with two filthy arms. She was covered in that yellow gunk from earlier, dried and clotted now. Her jacket was torn and stained, blonde matted strands of hair falling out of her ponytail. Bow realized she almost always would straighten up right after a fight, fix her hair, clean herself off. He resisted the urge to fix her ponytail for her—he didn’t think she wanted to be touched like that right now.

“What’s wrong then?” he said.

“I’m fine,” Adora said.

“Yeah,” Bow said, “you seem perfectly fine, sitting here in a corner mumbling and looking like someone died.”

Adora tensed at that.

Bow let out a big breath. So that was it, or part of it. He’d been putting off thinking about this too. “I’m worried about her, too.”

Adora looked up at him again. She bit her lip. “She doesn’t think it’s a big deal.”

Bow laughed.

“Bow,” Adora said. “She’s sick, and she won’t listen to me, but—why are you laughing?” she demanded.

“Catra’s not the first friend I’ve had who thinks she’s invincible.” Bow gave her a pointed look.

“Well I didn’t take some random, poisoned vial without—”

“Remember that whole _failsafe_ —?” Bow said.

Adora groaned. “Okay, fine, whatever.” She stared at him.

“What?”

“So you agree? We should leave.” Adora’s face was at least animated now, even if it was with a manic kind of energy. “Get Entrapta to get the stupid magic stuff out of Catra?”

Bow raised his eyebrows, trying to make his voice as calm as possible. “And just—what? Give up on Zilharr?”

Adora scowled. “They don’t even want us here.”

“They were suspicious of Chinara,” Bow pointed out. “They didn’t say they didn’t want the source reignited. If what Chinara says is right, this planet won’t be habitable for long.”

Adora put her head back down.

“We don’t even know if Entrapta could help Catra,” Bow pointed out gently. “Chinara said the only way to get rid of the magic was to let the source reabsorb it.”

Adora grumbled.

Bow tried to parse his thoughts before he spoke. He should have broached the subject of his ideas about magic before they ever left, but he didn’t want his friends to take his theories for facts. But Bow was beginning to see that they’d been operating on nothing more than guesswork for a long time now. He thought about something Glimmer had told him a few weeks ago, frustrated by his reticence: _Everything’s a theory until you try it, Bow!_

“About this magic… and its corruption,” Bow said.

That got Adora’s attention. She lifted her face, staring at him intently. Bow saw her eye twitch, but he pressed on. There was no avoiding this now.

“We know your She-Ra magic is connected to your emotions,” Bow started. “And if I’m right, that all magic works on the same basic principles, even if it changes in its surface manifestations, then this magic is connected to emotions, too.” Bow folded his hands together. “Back in the tent, after you left to help that kid, Catra said something. She said she’s not ‘good enough for the magic.’ And that—” Bow looked at Adora, considering.

“What?” Adora demanded.

“That _you_ believed that. That she’s not good enough.” Bow lifted a hand when Adora opened her mouth to protest. “I know you don’t actually. But the fact that Catra thinks so—maybe that’s the problem.”

“It’s not Catra’s fault that she’s sick,” Adora said, and Bow heard the wavering quality of the words, knew that being able to articulate it like that was still new for Adora. He felt a swell of pride for her.

“Of course not,” Bow reassured her. “And it’s not your fault either, for being worried about her. And maybe you’re right. That we should leave. It’s hard to know what fights we can win. But that’s how it’s always been for us. And maybe magic itself is always about… faith.”

Adora stared at him, eyes glassy, pointed, and then stood up in one fluid burst of energy. “I’m not going to leave Catra’s life up to chance.”

“That’s not…” Bow met Adora’s eyes. He had no idea how to try to explain it, the difference between chance and faith. He couldn’t bear for either of them to think he wasn’t taking Catra’s life seriously. “I’m not saying we leave it up to chance.” Adora visibly relaxed. “We need to talk to these people about what they know. About the magic. About the illness. And that—what I really want to say is: Adora, don’t forget we’re all here together. Looking out for each other. Like always. We’ll be okay.”

“Okay,” Adora said, but Bow knew what Adora looked like when she’d already made up her mind.

Bow physically relaxed when, a few minutes later, Glimmer returned to the tent, Catra, Naj, Dahl, and two Basa men in tow. He met Glimmer’s eyes and she smiled, the crinkly, mischievous smile he liked best. He kissed her temple in greeting.

“Oo, Bow, in front of everyone?” Glimmer said, eyes sparkling.

Bow wrapped one arm around her shoulders and pulled her into an embrace, head falling on top of hers.

When he didn’t move for several moments, Glimmer fidgeted, looked up at him. “Bow?”

He squeezed her tighter.

“Are you okay?” Glimmer unwrapped herself from Bow’s arm so she could see his face, which she took between her two palms.

Bow closed his eyes, feeling a rush of gratitude that Glimmer was here with him so strong that he knew he couldn’t even start to articulate it without turning into an emotional mess. So he just took a deep breath and said, “Been better.”

Glimmer seemed to understand—she didn’t press him.

“I don’t think anyone’s paying any attention to us,” Bow pointed out, responding to her earlier comment instead, realizing that he was in desperate need for some good humor.

Bow gestured around the tent as if to present his evidence. Naj and Dahl were seated at the main table, silver and dark hair bent close together in furtive discussion. Catra was talking to the two men who had come in with them, one of whom carried an impressive-looking crossbow that Bow longed to try out and the other holding an adorable baby Bow longed to coo over. Adora had at least roused from her sad, curled ball to talk to (interrogate, Bow revised to himself) Chinara. Koldo and Fae, Bow were relieved to see, had also found them in the tent, and were attempting to talk to a Basa family huddled in a far corner of the tent. Bow was momentarily heartened by the presence of the entire group together.

Glimmer pouted at him. “You’d think being an alien queen would get you some attention, at least. But no, all anyone cares about here are magical beings.”

“Are you jealous of the lizard?” Bow said, laughing.

“No,” Glimmer said, “that would be ridiculous.” She winked.

Bow kissed her on the cheek. “There are some advantages of being out of the spotlight.”

Glimmer pulled him down to kiss him on the mouth. She smiled, slow and soft. “I told you you’re smarter than me.” She sighed, looked around the tent. “We all need to talk,” she said. “Did Adora…?” She trailed off, watching Adora’s wild gesticulating, Chinara flinching back from her hands. “Is she okay?”

“Whatever happened scared her,” Bow whispered.

“Yeah,” Glimmer said. “Catra seems okay,” she offered.

“Yeah,” Bow said, with much less certainty. He watched Catra’s tail snap back and forth behind her as she listened to the man with the baby. “Glim. Do you think…we’re being affected? By Zilharr?”

Glimmer raised her eyebrows, lowered them, nodded. “Yeah…” She shook her head back and forth, scrunching her face. “No. I don’t know. I’m annoyed and worried and I want to strangle Chinara all the time. But everything sucks, and Chinara deserves it, usually, so.” She laughed, narrowed her eyes. “But. This planet feels—different.” She twirled in place to squint out into the darkness, through the tent’s opening. From their place just inside the tent, they could see the moonlight on the sand, the river gleaming in the distance, the darkness above and beyond, wherever the moonlight failed. “Like it’s fighting us. Not all the time. But sometimes, it feels like, a kind of… malice.” Glimmer pulled her shoulders inward.

Bow nodded. He had been avoiding putting it into words. He understood, too, Glimmer’s reluctance to say it, the way that words failed to encompass whatever it was about this place. “Yeah, I think so too. But it’s hard to tell. It could just be—the storms, the bad luck.” He looked down at himself. “I’m dirty and hungry and haven’t slept right since we left. Could be that.”

Glimmer looked at him. She never was one to avoid the hard truths of things.

“I know,” Bow said. “But these people—they’ve been living here. They’re just regular people.”

Glimmer threw up her hands. “I know. They seem pretty normal. Even if they kidnapped us.” She glared around the tent. She pursed her lips and looked up at Bow. “Tell me, if I’m being… weird, okay?”

He squeezed her hand. “You, too.”

“Takou.” Naj called out into the tent. Everyone quieted, taking it as a call to order. She rose from her seat and waited for perfect silence.

Once she had everyone’s attention, she moved toward the center of the tent, where Catra and the two men had been talking. Catra retreated to the back of the tent, taking her place beside Adora. Glimmer took Bow’s hand and led him to stand next to them both.

“Takou.” Naj stood before the man with the crossbow. He lowered the weapon, but otherwise remained at the ready, as if expecting to jump into battle at any moment. In fact, there was something coiled and energized about him, Bow thought, from the way he stood up on the balls of his feet to the attentive but impatient way he looked at the woman in front of him.

“What have you done?” Naj said. The words collapsed in on themselves, each one quieter and smaller than the last.

Everyone in the tent was silent, watching.

Takou said nothing, hands clenching and unclenching on the crossbow’s foregrip.

Naj turned to the man next to him. “I see you also have been deceiving us, Mykola.”

“I would have done it again,” Mykola said, solemn but firm. He brought his other hand up to cradle the baby’s head.

“It was my idea,” Takou said, the words bursting from him now. He spoke so quickly it was hard to follow. “Mykola wanted to tell you from the beginning. But I convinced him not to. And all the others.”

“We will speak of this later,” Naj said, her tone certain. She swiveled to look at Adora. “She-Ra says the Blue Tongue will return, yes?” Bow noticed that all of the emotion was wiped from her face in an instant. It was something he had seen Angella do in times of crisis. Bow both hoped and feared Glimmer would learn that trick.

Every face in the tent turned to Adora. Catra’s tail wrapped around Adora’s calf.

Adora, looking stunned by the sudden attention, opened and closed her mouth.

“Adora says it won’t stay away,” Catra said. “It’s—” She looked to Adora. “Looking for something.”

“Her young.” Adora sent Catra a grateful look, and continued. “She’s not trying to hurt us. She just wants to find them. She’s been looking for—it felt like years. She won’t give up.”

Naj’s face softened, reacting to Adora’s clear distress. “You communicated with her?”

“As She-Ra I could,” Adora said.

Naj stepped toward Adora. “Can you do it again?”

“Yes,” Adora said.

“The Blue Tongue communicated with you,” Catra said to Adora, surprisingly gentle. “Not the other way around. Right?”

“I guess.” Adora visibly tried to rouse herself, pushing her shoulders back, smoothing two hands over her ruined ponytail. “But she didn’t fight me after we… connected.”

Catra released a breath from her nose, but didn’t say anything else.

“For years?” Takou said. “But the den we hunted was—just a month ago.”

Bow could still feel the tension between Takou, Mykola, and Naj, as if it were a tangible thing within the tent, like heat, or wind, and yet they had both clearly made a conscious effort to set aside their other conflict, and focus on the one before them. Bow wondered if this was not the first time they had such an argument.

“And why would it look here?” Takou said. “We aren’t so stupid as to camp on top of a Blue Tongue den.”

“She’s not vengeful,” Adora said. “She’s….” She swallowed. “Searching,” she whispered. “She barely believes they’re dead. She at least wants to find their bodies. For some kind of—” Adora cut off, and Catra took her hand in hers. Adora took a breath, spoke again, “I’ll have to… explain.”

Everyone waited for Adora to say more, but she shrugged. She looked more defeated than frustrated.

Bow looked around at the others—Mykola and Naj both looked stricken by this, but Takou was firm as ever. Dahl had gotten up from where she was sitting close to Naj and was pacing at the back of the tent, sending the harsh shadows jumping up to the top of the tent.

“Those cracks around your camp,” Chinara said, rising from her seat toward Naj’s seat at the center. “They weren’t here when you settled at this location, correct?”

“Correct,” Dahl said, mimicking the clipped tone of Chinara’s voice. She was still pacing behind Naj. Her eyes flashed in the lamplight. Bow was struck again by her eyes, golden yellow, wide and pointed at the edges.

Chinara turned to Koldo for confirmation. “That is one way the Blue Tongue’s mark their dens, is it not? They are powerful enough to create cracks in the land, in order to signal the location of their dens?”

Koldo was sitting with his legs crossed close to a Basa child. He had some kind of toy in his hand. He looked up, clearly startled to be directly addressed, and nodded mutely, eyes wide. Bow saw Fae snicker at him and push him with her hand.

“We knew it wasn’t a den, we were already here,” Dahl started, annoyed, “we would have—”

“Exactly,” Chinara said. “Of course you wouldn’t,” she lowered her head deferentially. “You are far too smart for that.”

“I ought to drown you into the Jarush,” Dahl said, pausing her pacing to approach Chinara threateningly.

“She’s actually not being sarcastic,” Glimmer said dryly. “She’s trying to appease you, it just comes out…” Glimmer fluttered her fingers.

“Creepy,” Catra supplied.

“You,” Naj said to Chinara, clearly impatient with this conversation. “What are you saying?”

“Ah,” Chinara said. “Yes, well. So. I believe that the earthquakes and storms and continued acceleration of this Zilharr’s meteorological and terrestrial deterioration were the cause of those splits in the ground.”

“So now you’re blaming the Blue Tongue’s attack on our planet again?” Dahl said, furious. The cloth that had been wrapped around her head when they were out in the desert had fallen completely from her head now, and her hair fell around her face in waves. “You Spire people think this planet is nothing, think we are—”

“I’m here to save Zilharr,” Chinara said, setting her teeth together. “If you all continue on as you have been you won’t have a planet to live on within the decade.”

“What?” Mykola said in the shocked silence.

In the confusion that that pronouncement caused, Bow was thinking about what Chinara said. He knew Chinara could be single-minded, and even ruthless, but he also knew that she wouldn’t bring up something like that without cause. Chinara had spent her life studying her lost planet, and Bow had the sense she felt it, understood it, almost like a sixth sense. 

“Something was wrong?” Dahl was saying, outraged, when Bow turned back in. “Of course we know. We are the ones living here. We were the ones who had to live through the dark years after Mount Zil erupted.”

Bow wanted to ask about a dozen follow-up questions about that, but there wasn’t time. He turned to Chinara. “You’re saying the Blue Tongue didn’t cause those cracks, but they look like what the Blue Tongue uses to mark a den.”

Chinara looked at him in profound relief. She had always looked delicate to Bow, but she seemed especially so now, after so many days of hard travel. “Yes,” she said.

“She’s confused,” Koldo said, as he realized, too. “She saw the cracks and mistook them for ones she would make herself to mark the den.” He looked at Adora. “Maybe she’s also confused about the timing. Maybe she only _thinks_ she’s been searching for years.”

“Maybe,” Adora said. “All I really felt was the loss. Everything else was foggy.”

A low but persistent series of quakes rocked through the tent.

“Was that the Blue Tongue, or just quakes?” Bow looked to Adora.

She shrugged. “I can’t tell. I only had a connection with her when we were actually touching.”

“You try to talk to the Blue Tongue,” Takou said to Adora. “Fine.” He looked around at the rest of them. “But we need a back-up plan. If she can’t talk it down, what do we do?”

“Mykola says magical people can’t kill another without consequences,” Catra said.

“Without the repercussion,” Mykola said. “You really didn’t know about this?” he said to Adora.

“Uh, no?” Adora said.

“The repercussion?” Bow said. “What is that?”

“We don’t have time for stupid—magic lessons,” Catra said. “What it means is that no one who’s magic can fight it. Not Adora, and not you, Sparkles,” Catra said, leaning over Bow to look at her.

Glimmer stuck her tongue out at Catra. “My magic doesn’t even work here!”

“What about you?” Adora said to Catra, exasperated. “You have magic too now.”

Catra rolled her eyes, but Chinara was nodding. “I know only rudimentary magic theory,” Chinara said, “but Adora’s right. Catra could suffer ill-effects from a repercussion as well.”

“Give me a break,” Catra said, sourly. “Don’t pretend you care about what happens to me. You just want your precious conduit out of the danger zone.”

“Conduit?” Mykola said, sharp enough that he caused the baby in his arms to start an unhappy cry. Mykola bent to kiss the child, quieting them for the moment, and looked back up. “What does that mean?”

“It means,” Catra said, “that I’m her only chance to reignite the source, so she won’t pull anything too stupid when I’m around. Anyway,” she said to Adora. “ _I’m_ not magic, I’m just the carrier.”

“Oh, okay,” Adora said, sarcastic, but Bow was relieved to see her normal playfulness. “Then I’m not She-Ra, I just use her sword sometimes.”

“You—are—a conduit?” Mykola sputtered. He was turning his head to face Catra, then Chinara. “She has—concentrated magic? To ignite the source?”

“While I was waiting for a better moment to broach the subject,” Chinara paused to glare at Catra, who offered her best shit-eating grin, “yes, Catra is the conduit, and our best hope of healing Zilharr.”

“That’s what you meant by ‘healing?’” Naj said, intent, leaning forward.

Chinara nodded. “We believe it would heal Mount Zil. Even a small dose of the pure magic would be enough to ignite the source so it could produce magic once again.”

“Produce?” Mykola said. “You’re saying the source still has access to the planet’s magic?”

Everyone stumbled as a quake rocked the tent, lights and loose materials swinging and falling around them. Then they heard it: a keening, low-frequency roar.

“That’s her,” Adora said, eyes wide.

No one questioned her.

“You will go to speak with the Blue Tongue?” Naj said to Adora.

Adora nodded.

“Our fates are tied, She-Ra.” Naj bowed, bending her torso over in Adora’s direction. “Thank you. What can we do to help?”

Adora shook her head. “I think if I talk to her again, it’ll be fine. She doesn’t want to attack.”

“So we’re just going to hope that this works?” Takou said, outraged.

“I will not discuss bringing harm to another Blue Tongue,” Naj said. “That is final, Takou.”

Takou glared, threw his arms up, and ushered Mykola, and their infant, out of the tent. Bow felt immense relief. He knew he could never support a plan that included hurting the Blue Tongue.

* * *

Catra had never imagined there would be alien leaders as outstandingly idiotic as her own friends.

Catra turned to Adora, who still looked shaky and pale. “Come with me?” Adora said, lifting her hand out to Catra.

Catra took her hand and squeezed it, even as she said, voice sour with frustration, “Can you even transform again so soon?”

“I think so,” Adora said.

“That’s reassuring,” Catra said.

“But you will?” Adora pressed.

“Obviously,” Catra said. “Somebody’s gotta be there when asking politely doesn’t work.”

“It’ll be fine,” Adora said, and while a little of her teasing exasperation was back, her eyes were still dim.

Catra felt a flare of anger. Adora was clearly worried, and still freaked out. Why wouldn’t she admit that she couldn’t be sure if her weird magical connection would work? Couldn’t she rely on Catra at least for this? What use was Catra if she couldn’t funnel her rage into fighting their enemies?

Adora squeezed her hand again, looking over where Bow and Glimmer talking to Naj. “Be right back.”

Catra folded her arms across her chest, stewing. She could hardly believe the others wouldn’t even consider listening to Takou, who was clearly the only practical one among them, who actually had experience hunting the animals.

Catra’s thoughts were interrupted by Chinara’s sudden presence. Catra hissed. “What?”

“Adora won’t agree to a back-up plan?” Chinara’s face was dripping with sweat. She closed her eyes and ran a hand over her brow and eyes. At least she had taken off the terrible hat, letting it swing from its cord on her back. She looked like she was about to keel over. This was no place, no mission, for someone like Chinara, who had been coddled all her life.

“No.” Catra watched Adora talking to Bow and Glimmer—as expected, they were nodding along to everything she said. Catra huffed. It didn’t matter, she supposed. _She_ would be the back-up plan—there to kill it if Adora’s talking didn’t work.

“I don’t think Takou and Mykola will stand by and do nothing,” Chinara started, “I could talk to them, and then if I came along with you and Adora—"

“Don’t even think about it,” Catra snapped. “You have no place in a battle. If I catch you anywhere near us, I’ll use you as bait.”

Chinara’s mouth opened and closed. She bowed her head, as if in acquiescence, but then she straightened, and Catra saw something in her face harden. “I’ll stay away.” She twirled around, her black cape billowing out behind her, and left the tent.

Catra frowned after her. It seemed Chinara was growing a backbone. Catra wasn’t sure if that made her more or less dangerous. 

There was another quake, sharp enough to make Catra stumble. She watched as Adora, Bow, and Glimmer fell on top of each other in the tumult.

“All right,” Catra said, snickering. She reached down to help Adora up. “That’s our cue to commune with your pet monster.”

“It will be fine,” Adora said, more to Bow and Glimmer than to Catra. Adora helped the two of them up, one with each hand.

They looked like they were going to continue arguing. Adora took a big breath and transformed into She-Ra. “See?”

Glimmer and Bow visibly relaxed, nodded. They reached for She-Ra and Catra, and Catra allowed herself to be pulled into a group hug.

When she heard the faint rumble of her own purring, she pulled back. She gave Glimmer and Bow a mock-salute, already pulling She-Ra out of the tent. She mustered all the flippancy she could and called, “Later, losers.”

Catra and Adora found the Blue Tongue drinking from the river outside of camp. The moon was so bright that Catra’s vision was as clear as in the day. Catra had to admit the river was much prettier at night, the brown of the river replaced with flowing light.

The Blue Tongue was ethereal under the moons, its scales glinting. Catra saw the wound on its belly—the lizard seemed slower, less deft than before. That, at least, was good news.

“Hello!” She-Ra said. “I want to talk.”

The Blue Tongue kept drinking, turned away from them.

“Rejected,” Catra said.

“Maybe she can’t hear,” She-Ra said, serious, not distracted by Catra’s teasing. “I think—I think I have to touch her.”

“Of course you do.” Catra tugged her forward. “Come on.”

They were within range of the beast’s humongous tail when finally it seemed to notice them. It pulled its head out of the water and craned its neck to look at them. Its umber eye narrowed. Catra felt that it was greeting them, and then immediately dismissed the thought. It would be easier if she didn’t think of it as sentient.

The lizard twisted its body around and toward them, letting its tail stretch out behind it into the river, nearly spanning the entirety of the water like the weirdest bridge Catra had ever seen. It allowed them to approach. Catra and She-Ra both walked with their palms forward, arms slightly raised, with slow precise movements, in the (hopefully) universal language of peace.

Catra slowed as they neared the last thirty feet, pulling on She-Ra’s hand. They were dwarfed, now, by the enormity of the skink. Its head alone was twice as tall as She-Ra, its eye bigger than her torso. Its breathing was labored. Its staggered breaths were coming in and out of its sagging mouth, its vibrant blue tongue sneaking out of its flat, lipless—but thankfully toothless—mouth.

She-Ra tugged on Catra’s hand, urging her forward. “It’s okay,” she whispered. “Don’t be scared.”

“I’m not scared,” Catra said automatically. She groaned from the magic’s responding pain.

“I won’t let her hurt you,” She-Ra said, still staring ahead, hand even more outstretched now.

“ _You_ can’t fight it without the repercussion, remember?” Catra said.

“We’re not gunna fight,” She-Ra breathed.

They were close enough that Catra could feel the exhalations of the Blue Tongue’s breaths. She-Ra drew them along the side of the lizard’s mouth, so the two of them were in full view of one luminous eye.

“Can I?” She-Ra said, lifting a hand right up to its scaly jowl.

The lizard stayed still, which She-Ra took as consent, and laid her fingers along the pale purple scales.

Catra tensed up, hardly breathing, ready for a battle she didn’t see how she could win.

But the Blue Tongue did not attack. She-Ra pressed her palm closer into the lizard, standing right up next to it, her other hand still clasped in Catra’s.

She-Ra’s eyes were closed, scrunched up in concentration. After a few minutes of tense silence, She-Ra made a small sound of distress.

“Adora?” Catra said.

She didn’t respond, but her face crumpled. The Blue Tongue made a low, long, rumbling sound, like an engine revving. She-Ra sobbed and her form flickered out and back into Adora.

“Stop!” Catra pulled Adora’s palm away from the lizard’s hide.

She-Ra took several staggering steps backward and opened her eyes. “It’s okay. Sorry. It’s hard to—be in her head and—not—at the same time.”

“Well?” Catra said. “Is it gunna leave us alone now?”

She-Ra grimaced. “Haven’t gotten that far yet. But it’s—” She-Ra’s face softened, and Catra saw her smile for the first time since she had found Adora crumpled in the sand. “Better now. It was a lot, all at once before. And she’s a little calmer. She understood some.”

“Progress,” Catra said, trying to encourage her positivity.

She-Ra squeezed Catra’s hand, and gave her a real, if small smile. “I told her you were a friend. She says, _May the sand move for you_. Or, maybe it’s more like, _Let your body be healed_? Or, it might have just been: _Hi._ ”

“That’s great, Adora,” Catra drawled. “Your translation skills are top-notch, really. So do you have to do that again?”

“Yeah,” She-Ra said, puffing out her cheeks, and releasing a big breath. “It might take awhile.”

“Did it—it looked like it was hurting you,” Catra’s voice came out harsher than she intended.

“Not hurting,” She-Ra said, “Just… hard.”

Catra groaned. “Fine! Whatever. Hurry up.”

She-Ra nodded, resolute, and turned back to the lizard. Catra thought about how easily Bow and Glimmer had believed Adora when she said She-Ra could do this, how Naj had, and Chinara before her. Did everyone in the entire universe rely on She-Ra to solve their problems?

* * *

Chinara nodded at Takou and two other hunters. “We’ll expect you to be in position around the northern perimeter of the skink,” she whispered. Chinara looked around to see if anyone was close enough to hear them. The small group was convened outside one of the big tents that was half-collapsed from the last series of quakes. The Basa camp was still much too busy to pay them any attention—Chinara heard the far-off voice of Glimmer trying to cajole people into moving away from the river. “We—” Chinara gestured to herself and three other hunters. “will be at the south. She-Ra said the Blue Tongue is wounded on its belly, so our best bet, if it comes to it, is to aim for that wound.” She turned to Mykola. “You think electricity would work if it reached past the scales?”

“My mentor believed that there was a connection between electricity and dark magic,” Mykola said. “Dark magic functions on similar ‘currents.’ It was all theoretical, but it could mean creatures with magic would also be especially susceptible to electricity.”

“And yet,” Takou cut in, “no one has ever taken a Blue Tongue down from a stun hit.”

“As you well know, Takou,” Mykola said, “the scales are near-perfect insulators, and—”

He was cut off by another series of low, rumbling quakes.

“I can’t believe I’m the one to point it out,” Chinara said, “but as the Etherians would say, we don’t have time for lessons right now.” Everyone nodded. “Remember we are only a secondary option. Do not approach unless the Blue Tongue begins an attack.”

Takou clapped her on the shoulder, hard. “Got it, Spire Lady.” He handed her a stun baton from the bin they had taken. “Do you know how to use these?”

Before Chinara could articulate a suitable lie, Dahl appeared at her elbow. “She most definitely does not,” she said.

Everyone startled at her appearance, Takou nearly zapping her with his live weapon.

“Careful.” Dahl reached over to stop the path of his arm, the long cloth from her sleeve trailing into the sand. “Wouldn’t want to add another count of treason to your record, would you?”

“Dahl,” Takou said, “we won’t do anything unless it attacks. But it’s stupid not to prepare for—”

Dahl flapped her hand in Takou’s face. He flinched back and glared at her. “Give it up, I’m sick of arguing with you.”

“So you’re just here to gloat before you turn us into Naj?” Takou scowled.

Dahl took a step back, crossed her arms in front of herself. She took a moment to look around at them all. “Teaming up with this one on I see.” She stuck a thumb at Chinara. She narrowed her eyes. “I’m not here to turn you in. I’m here to help.” She looked around at their dumbstruck faces and laughed. She plucked the stun baton from Chinara’s grasp, and leaned into Chinara’s face, their noses almost touching. “That great reptile will gobble you up before you figure out how to turn this on.”

Chinara refused to back down, nearly going cross-eyed trying to stare back at Dahl. “Do you have a better idea?”

“As a matter of fact, I do.” Dahl grinned, twirling the stun baton effortlessly around her fingers.

Chinara was furious that Dahl’s plan was a good one.

Dahl pointed out that the skink was already partly submerged in the water of the river. If they could send shocks into the water itself, the electricity should reach any part of the skink the water touched. As long as its wound was in the water, it would mean a serious hit to the skink.

Chinara was in position with her team. It had taken some doing to sneak away from camp without the others—especially Koldo—noticing, but she hoped they were used enough to her avoiding physical battles that they would assume she was far away from the action.

Chinara appreciated the simplicity of this plan. She had been concerned with battle strategy—which she knew less than nothing about—but as long as the Blue Tongue stayed in the water, all they needed to do was be ready to send shocks into the water at a moment’s notice. While staying out of the water themselves, of course. The plan depended upon clear and quick communication between the two groups. The Basa hunters had provided Chinara and Dahl with flares for this purpose. Chinara, Takou, and the two hunters on her team had a clear visual of the Blue Tongue—and now of Adora and Catra, but Dahl’s group was in position at the other side of a copse of palm trees near the river, and wouldn’t be able to see anything. They would be relying on Chinara’s signal flare to know when—and if—to send a shock to the river. If, however, the Blue Tongue moved north, Dahl’s team would reposition in order to have the best visual of the Blue Tongue, and then they would take charge of the signal. The flare signals were also necessary to coordinate the shocks into one unified attack, hitting the skink with the most amount of electricity at once.

Chinara would have appreciated better communication—radios of some sort, at the least, but they had no time. She felt a rare and bright feeling of pride: she was learning to make do with what she was given.

And for now, it seemed the plan itself would not be necessary. Chinara could clearly see She-Ra peacefully standing alongside the Blue Tongue. It looked as if she were, in fact, communicating with the lizard successfully. Chinara squeezed the flare gun in her hand, hoping her plans would be superfluous.

* * *

Catra was bored. She thought being in the middle of an alien desert would be exciting. She didn’t think she’d have to sit here doing nothing, watching Adora pet some lizard.

“Adora,” Catra said, needling, “are you done? It’s getting chilly. I’m hungry.”

She-Ra’s face was still all pinched, concentrating hard. “Shhh.”

Catra scowled. “Oh, _I’m_ sorry, am I getting between you two?”

She-Ra still didn’t respond, clearly still talking to the Blue Tongue.

“I mean,” Catra said, “I’m only dying of hunger out here in this forsaken desert, after being kidnapped, and trudging across a desert for days, carrying some planet’s stupid magic that treats me like a punching bag.” Catra kicked the sand in front of her.

She-Ra leaned her forehead on the scale of the Blue Tongue, and then straightened, turned to Catra. Her face was strained with worry. “Did something happen? Are you feeling sick?” She-Ra leaned over to feel Catra’s forehead.

Catra swatted it away. “No, I don’t feel sick, I feel hungry. Now are you gunna sit here telling this lizard all your life secrets or are we gunna finally go back and eat?”

“Are you—” She-Ra paused, and then, the tense worry leaving her face, replaced with a smug smile, said, “Are you jealous of the lizard?”

“What!” Catra screeched. “No.” She groaned as the pain hit. There was a kind of vibration along the body of the lizard. She-Ra looked back at the Blue Tongue and grinned, and was it—were they both _laughing at Catra?_

“Catra, you can go back,” She-Ra said. “She’s not going to attack, she just needs—a little reassurance.” She turned away from the lizard, faced Catra directly, leaned down near Catra’s ear. “I think she’s just glad to have someone to… witness her loss. But she doesn’t understand yet, how this place is not her den. She barely understands that they’re really… gone.” She-Ra looked down, took a breath, met Catra’s eyes with the same fierce determination Catra had been staring down all her life. “But I’m getting somewhere now. It’ll be okay.”

Catra reached up to hold She-Ra’s chin. “Adora. You were really… freaked out after talking with it last time. You don’t have to do—whatever this is—for longer than you have to.”

She-Ra leaned down and picked Catra up bodily and squeezed her in a hug. She put her back down, completely ignoring Catra’s squeals of indignation. “Thank you.” She grinned and Catra swore she was actually too bright to look at. “For looking out for me. I know I’ve been—” She-Ra waved a hand, but couldn’t put words to it.

“Shut up, Adora,” Catra said, caught between satisfaction that Adora was vulnerable with her, even in She-Ra form, and an equally strong sadness that Adora looked surprised, still, that Catra would look out for her. “You’ve been saving everybody, like always.”

She-Ra sighed. “I’m not done yet. I’m sorry. She still thinks of them as enemies.”

She-Ra had no sooner touched the Blue Tongue again when the ground beneath them trembled, gentle shakes turning violent, heaving the land around them. She-Ra braced herself on the hide of the skink, Catra was sent sprawling, and even the Blue Tongue wobbled on its squat legs.

“So it is earthquakes, too,” Catra said, grim.

“Whoa!” She-Ra said, as the quakes finally tapered off, and surged forward to touch the Blue Tongue again.

Catra could do nothing but watch, crouched into a fighting stance.

A minute later, She-Ra drew back and looked at Catra again. “Catra. She can feel it, the plates of the planet, where it’s shifting. And—” She-Ra cursed under her breath. “It’s upsetting her. She’s going to keep being—confused while the quakes continue. She doesn’t know where she is, when she is.” She-Ra grimaced and looked at Catra apologetically. “This is gunna sound crazy.”

“Okay, yeah, what else is new?” Catra said, motioning for her to spit it out.

“I could feel where the shifting plates were, through her.” She-Ra shifted on her feet. “I think… I think She-Ra can fix them. Temporarily at least. She thinks there will be a—big shift, soon, really soon. If I can get there first, I can release some of the pressure without causing a major slip.”

“You want… to go fix… the tectonic plates of the planet?” Catra said.

“Yeah.” She-Ra looked sheepish.

Catra looked up at She-Ra, all eight-foot golden warrior who just so happened to be wearing Catra’s old face mask. Catra laughed.

“What?” She-Ra said, smile hesitant.

“It’s a good thing I’m not jealous of you anymore,” Catra said. “I don’t know how I’d ever compete with ‘moving tectonic plates.’”

She-Ra looked at her for a minute, then said, voice flat, “You were jealous?”

Catra stared. “Are you—are you making fun of me?” She slapped She-Ra’s arm hard, a little stunned, and okay, yes, _in awe_ , when she didn’t even react to the full force of the blow.

She-Ra’s face broke right away, giggling in a distinctly Adora way.

“You brat!” Catra said, knowing by the grin on her face that she wasn’t fooling Adora. Catra was immensely relieved she was kidding around again. “Fine, let’s go fix the world,” she said.

“You have to stay here,” She-Ra said, sobering. “With her.” She nodded at the Blue Tongue.

“You want me to stay with the bloodthirsty lizard?” Catra yelped.

“She won’t hurt you.” She-Ra put her hands on Catra’s shoulders. “She knows who you are. She needs you to keep her calm. The others being nearby still spooks her.”

“And you trust _me_ with your precious lizard?” Catra said, the ugly feelings returning.

“You know, Catra, I remember when you immediately befriended the magical space alien cat when the rest of us were all terrified,” She-Ra said. “You’ll be fine.” She was already turning away.

Catra couldn’t stop herself, she felt the full force of her fear and anger all at once. “I told you already. I’ll kill it if I need to.”

She-Ra turned around, looked down at Catra, and her eyes darkened into Adora’s, soft and blue-gray. She reached out and touched Catra’s cheek, like they could communicate like this, too, wordless and jumbled and true. “No, you won’t.”

Catra closed her eyes. She felt the pull, to pretend to be the person Adora thought she was. But she wasn’t that person. “You don’t know what I’ll do,” she said.

She-Ra pulled back as another quake rumbled. “Catra. I know this is about—everything.” Her eyes were fierce. “I trust you more than anyone in the universe.”

Catra shook her head, looked away.

She-Ra looked back over her shoulder again, over the river. “I have to go. And we’ll talk later, okay?”

Catra peered at the skink. Its big, luminous eye gleamed down at her like another moon. Catra wondered if it knew that she had threatened its life several times. “How the hell are you supposed to—move the plates—” Catra grimaced, reminded herself that she herself watched Adora jump out into space and fight several spaceships at once as She-Ra. “Without getting crushed?”

She-Ra was looking out across the desert, over the river, presumably where the fault line was. “I don’t have to dig. I can send kind of—waves of magic down to it. I just—” She shrugged, looked at Catra with a small smile. “Know I can do it.”

Catra hissed. “I hate this plan. You better know what you’re talking about, Adora.”

She-Ra already had her palm pressed to the scales of the skink. “It’s getting… easier… a little, to talk to her. I told her the plan. She says: You’ll be safe here, Cherished One.”

“Cherished One?” Catra said, lifting an eyebrow.

She-Ra blushed crimson, pulled her hand away. “Uh… it’s how she saw you in my… thoughts.” She-Ra looked at her with a dopey lopsided smile.

“Oh.” Catra felt something swell inside her that she suspected was her heart. “Adora.” Catra’s breath hitched. “You’re such a—” She wiped her filling eyes with her forearm. “ _Princess_.”

She-Ra leaned down to press a kiss to Catra’s forehead before turning back to the Blue Tongue. Her eyes crinkled as she smiled.

Catra watched She-Ra leap across the river and disappear into the dark of the desert. She turned back to the Blue Tongue. “Adora makes the weirdest friends.”

The small, delicate scales above and below the skink’s eye flexed to meet, obscuring the eye for a moment, and Catra could swear it was a wink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know--this chapter took FOREVER. Thank you for being patient if you’re still here! And thank you to my sister for reviewing this in record time so I could post! The good news is I accidentally wrote chunks of the next two chapters instead, so those will be out much quicker. Also, I got distracted by an idea for a flashback of the girls when they’re thirteen, which turned into this [one shot](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27268858). So check that out if you’re interested. 😊 Although reading that story is in no way necessary to keeping up with this one, this fic will reference some things that happened there in the next few chapters.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plans go awry. The girls finally talk.
> 
> CW: Violence is brief but more explicit (blood and gore) in this chapter.

Catra crouched, wary and ready, glaring at the massive Blue Tongue’s left nostril.

The nostril was a compromise. She couldn’t turn her back on the terrifying lizard she was meant to be guarding the Basa camp from, but she also didn’t want to stare into the Blue Tongue’s eye. When she did, she felt it watching her back, measuring her up, and she was beginning to think she wouldn’t fare well in the Blue Tongue’s judgment. Not that that mattered.

Catra wished she had a watch. She had no idea how much time had passed, no way to tell if Adora was taking too long or not. She had been trying to track the movement of the moons, but the moons were setting out in the desert, away from the mountain range to the east and from any markers on the horizon that would allow Catra to keep track of their relative positions in the sky.

All Catra could do was monitor the trembling land under her feet and hope it meant Adora’s plan was working. And complain to the Blue Tongue.

“Adora better know what she’s doing,” Catra said to the giant skink’s nostril.

The Blue Tongue made no response. At least not any that Catra could understand.

“But Adora is always right,” Catra continued. Her tone was sarcastic, but the truth was that the sentiment was reassuring under the circumstances. Right now, everything depended on Adora being right. Being right that the Blue Tongue wouldn’t attack again, right that She-Ra could stop the earthquakes.

And Catra knew that Adora had been right about the other thing, too, hadn’t she? When Adora had seen Izar’s journal, the purple spots on the patients that matched Catra’s own, Adora had been scared, panicked even, but not surprised. Not disbelieving. Resolute as ever. There had been no question in Adora’s mind that Catra was the same as those people in the journal. That she was corrupting the magic.

The desert lurched, interrupting her thoughts. Catra sprung back away from the Blue Tongue, putting herself between it and the camp. This quake was different. Shorter, but more violent. Catra felt as if the planet itself must be thrown off its axis. Catra stood when she could, soaking wet. The quake had sent a wave crashing into her. She spluttered and shook herself. She saw that the giant skink had fallen to its belly, as it had earlier. Unlike before, this time it began to burrow its head in the sand.

“Seriously?” she said to the giant skink. She approached it, shaking the water off best she could.

The Blue Tongue pulled its head from the sand, thrashing back and forth. It pounded its feet. In place, at first, and then toward camp.

“No!” Catra said, running in front of it again. “Stop!” Her claws were extended, her hands shaking.

The Blue Tongue’s eyes rolled, panicked. Its huge tail dropped into the river behind it, causing an upheaval of water so great that torrents of water soaked Catra through. The skink continued forward in Catra’s, and the camp’s, direction once again.

Catra retreated again. “Stop!” she ordered, sputtering, wiping her eyes clear. “Or I’ll hurt you.”

The Blue Tongue nosed into the sand, threw up a plume onto Catra.

The sand clung to Catra’s wet fur, and she was abruptly furious. “I will! I’ll do it.” She was leaping to and fro in front of the skink now, dodging its whipping head, cautious of its tail in back. Her hands were outstretched and ready to strike. “I can’t let you go over there again.”

The Blue Tongue’s beautiful, big eye focused on Catra, but it didn’t stop. Catra raised her arm for the strike and lunged, imagining the blow before it landed, the way her claws would tear through the eye’s membrane, blood bursting through the luminous amber, an irreparable wound. Catra hadn’t realized she’d already decided that the eye would be the best target, the most vulnerable part of the skink. She’d already planned how to kill it. Why did Adora leave her with the Blue Tongue, if she knew Catra was corrupt all along?

Catra stopped at the last moment. She growled, Adora’s words ringing in her mind: _I trust you more than anyone in the universe._

Catra was still leaping back and forth, away from the Blue Tongue’s thrashing. At least Catra’s aborted lunge toward the skink’s eye had been enough to push it back into the river.

 _Where are you, Adora?_ she thought, noticing that the quakes had stopped. Catra couldn’t do anything if she couldn’t hurt it. She wasn’t like Adora, she didn’t have magic powers. Catra had never learned a way to defend herself that didn’t include blood and pain. 

The skink rallied and stepped forward once again, heedless of Catra’s threats. Without Adora there, without using violence, there was nothing Catra could do. Catra had never felt so small, standing so close to the giant skink, its body on the same scale as the mountains beyond them. It reminded Catra of those lonely days on Prime’s ship. The universe so vast that it dwarfed even planets.

Then, Catra had outsmarted her enemy. She had been stealthy and patient and she had gotten Glimmer off the ship right out from under Prime’s nose. The Blue Tongue was huge, powerful, and capable of great destruction, but Catra knew she was no Prime. Maybe, the Blue Tongue wasn’t Catra’s enemy at all. Maybe she was capable of something other than destruction and pain. 

There was something, after all, that she hadn’t tried.

Catra retracted her claws and approached the Blue Tongue again. This time, slowly, palms raised, crooning. “I won’t hurt you.” The Blue Tongue stilled. Its eye focused on Catra. Its slit pupils were just like her own. Catra reached out with one hand. “Come on. Talk to me.”

Catra laid the palm of her hand along the Blue Tongue’s snout.

* * *

Fae was bandaging a gash on a teenager’s calf when Koldo approached her. She was in the middle of the makeshift emergency care tent, one of many helping to care for minor injuries from the Blue Tongue’s attack. The tent was crowded and unorganized, and when Fae had tried to impose some order into the space, she had been met with wary glares. How did these so-called leaders of Etheria she was with manage to make everyone hate them so fast?

The wounded kid hissed in pain. Fae had tied the bandage too tight. “Sorry,” she said, and went to loosen it. Fae had spent a great deal of time in the Horde learning basic first aid. It had never been mandatory. If anything, it was discouraged. The Horde didn’t want cadets thinking about the realities of war. And Fae had found that most of her squad-mates were happy to oblige.

Fae had never been like that. She had never been able to think _past_ the realities of her situation. So she asked questions in the med bay, practiced tourniquets on herself—even stitches, on one occasion. Everyone always told her it was a waste of time, but they were grateful enough when she knew what to do when they got hurt.

Fae wondered if this meant she was destined for the sidelines—unable to ignore all the non-glamorous work that needed to be done. She had always thought she could do both, that her practical mind would help her to be a better leader. She was beginning to think that was a mistake. There was a reason leaders didn’t cook their own meals.

“Have you seen my sister?” Koldo had appeared next to her, his eyes flitting back and forth around the tent as if Chinara might at any time emerge from the shadows.

“Not lately.” Fae turned to the boy in front of her. “It needs stitches. But if it stops bleeding then you’ll be fine. Probably.”

“I didn’t know you were a doctor,” Koldo said.

“I’m not,” Fae said.

“Wait, what?” the boy before her squeaked, looking down at her bandaging work in horror.

“What?” Fae said. “You weren’t asking for my credentials when you were writhing in pain.”

The boy gave her a wounded look—he seemed in even more distress now than he had been when he was only physically wounded.

“It’s better now, isn’t it?” Fae pointed a finger at his face. “You remember I helped you. Fae of Etheria. Got that? F-a-e. You tell everybody I saved you.”

Fae got up and left the tent, ignoring her erstwhile patient’s response. She turned to Koldo once they were back outside. “What did your sister do now?”

Koldo lifted his hand to run it over his scalp, but seemed to forget he had cloth wrapped around his head now in the style of the Basa people. Fae wondered whether he was covering the marks on his skull for the benefit of these people or for himself.

“I saw her talking to those hunter guys.” Koldo swallowed. “They’re planning a back-up plan. If Adora can’t talk to the Blue Tongue.”

Fae rolled her eyes. “Koldo, Adora doesn’t want to kill it either, it’ll be—”

“I know,” Koldo said. “Dahl joined them.”

“So what?”

“I sort of—got a bad feeling—how she reacted when Catra told them she was the conduit—and listened to her talking to Naj after the meeting,” Koldo said. He grimaced, as if worried Fae would be mad about this invasion of privacy. Fae just waited for him to continue. “She was trying to convince her that the Blue Tongue’s a danger. She said that Naj was never willing to do what had to be done.”

“You think she’s gunna kill your lizard,” Fae said, exasperated, eager to find someone else to help, another way to prove her worth here. “I know, but—”

“Stop!” Koldo said. “Listen!”

Fae obeyed. She’d never heard Koldo sound angry like that before. She liked it. “All right.” She rose her eyebrows in invitation.

“She noticed the marks on Catra’s neck,” Koldo said. “Dahl was telling Naj she’s ‘marked.’ She wanted to force Catra to leave, after she heard she’s the conduit. But Naj wasn’t listening, told Dahl she was overreacting. Dahl stormed off and then found Chinara. She’s joining them for their back-up plan.”

“What are you saying?” Fae said.

Koldo shrugged. “I don’t know. I just—got a bad feeling. Naj wasn’t listening to Dahl. Not really. But I was. And Dahl sounded—” he stopped, shook his head. “She _hates_ the Spire. She sounded…desperate. She was really serious about stopping Catra. She wasn’t going to wait for permission.”

Fae knew something about desperation. “She’ll go after Catra herself,” she said. She looked up at Koldo. “We have to do something.”

“I knew I didn’t like that lady,” Fae said, for the tenth time. “This is taking too long.”

They were trying to find Bow or Glimmer. They thought they might have an idea of how to contact Catra, tell them about Chinara’s little “back-up plan” and whatever Dahl was up to. But they couldn’t find them.

Fae groaned. “Do you know how common friendly fire during a poorly prepped battle? And that’s without whatever Dahl actively threatening Catra. How are they supposed to know that Adora and Catra are clear of the water when they send the signal?” Fae cursed, loud enough to attract looks from several families around them.

“Maybe we should check the main tent, we haven’t—” Koldo started.

“That’s it!” Fae pointed at him, smiling. She took off running back toward the main tent, Koldo huffing behind her. She jumped onto one of the main support poles, feeling smug when it did, in fact, seem to take her weight.

She heard Koldo saying to someone, rather unconvincingly, “Oh, yeah, she’s fixing it.”

Fae reached the top support beam and hauled herself over it. She had a clear view of the river, and yes, there was the lizard, She-Ra, and—she squinted into the moonlit night—Catra, standing beside her. She looked bored. Fae felt relief so strong she almost fell off the beam. She found a point on the horizon to focus on and re-balanced.

Fae remembered when she taught herself to climb. It was right after she first noticed Catra, long before she was noticed by Horde leadership. It was in a sparring tournament. Fae’s squad went to go watch the older cadets fight. Catra hadn’t won that tournament—it was Adora, of course—but Fae hadn’t been able to take her eyes from Catra’s fighting style.

It was nothing like what the Horde taught. Most cadets all looked the same, following the same rote form, every fight hinging on strength alone. Catra had been different. Fluid, where others were rigid, inventive where others were stale. She had used the sparring field’s surroundings to great effect. Climbing on trees to gain advantage, kicking up dirt when necessary. Fae remembered Adora had called it cheating, but Fae knew that was an excuse. It was survival. Fae started climbing on the Fright Zone’s piping the next day. She had tried to mimic that clear-eyed pragmatism, free of naïve notions of honor, ever since.

The object of Fae’s admiration had never, of course, noticed the attention. And Fae knew she wouldn’t notice this time either. Fae was beginning to understand how large a role Catra had played in Fae’s own life. And that didn’t matter, either. Catra would never see her and Fae could never rid herself of everything she had become because she loved her.

Fae stood up on the beam. She didn’t have time to dwell on it now. Catra was still in trouble. From what Koldo had said, the support team—well, the ill-conceived, doomed-to-failure team, she revised to herself—should be positioned north and south of Catra, Adora, and the Blue Tongue.

If they were trained, the teams would be all but invisible at night. They’d be hidden in a copse of trees, a patch of ferns, silent and absolutely still until signaled that they were needed.

But they were not trained. Fae spotted the shine of Takou’s crossbow, first, and then, on the other side of the Blue Tongue, a splash in the water, as if someone had startled an animal. Sure enough, Fae spotted figures there, too.

As Fae watched, She-Ra took off, leaving Catra with the giant skink. Of course She-Ra would leave Catra when she needed her the most. Well. Fae would be there instead.

* * *

Adora could feel the fissures strain under Zilharr. The Blue Tongue had showed her where they were, the depth and length of them, the pressure between the plates of this world. Catra was right—it was weird, that Adora could feel this, that she was just as sure that she could influence the plates’ movement. And yet, it _felt_ natural, as it had on Etheria, after the heart had revitalized the ecosystem, purged Prime’s poison both from her planet and from his failing vessel.

It didn’t take her long, as She-Ra, to reach the location of the fissure. Now that she was paying attention, she could feel it, too. She could have found the right place without the Blue Tongue’s memories. The planet was in pain, and she could heal this break just as she had healed her friends’ broken bones. She placed the point of the sword into the sand. She let the magic flow across her body, within and throughout her sword.

Unlike broken bones, this schism wasn’t meant to be fully stitched back together. There needed to be give and take. Flexibility and yielding. She-Ra allowed for this new, necessary space.

She crouched close to the ground, sending her magic beneath the surface, and listened for what the planet needed. And, slowly, the planet listened to _her_. Adora would give it whatever it asked for.

She was so focused on healing the wound under her feet that she did not notice the trembling caused by the Blue Tongue’s agitation not so far away.

* * *

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Glimmer appeared in front of Chinara, wagging a finger in her face. Chinara was reminded of Glimmer’s teleportation abilities on Etheria. Had she somehow figured out a way to teleport on Zilharr, too? _That_ was all Chinara needed.

Chinara broke her steady surveillance of the Blue Tongue and Catra to regard Glimmer. And there was Bow beside her. They were both breathing hard. At least Chinara didn’t have to contend with another magical Etherian.

“We won’t hurt it unless we have to.” Chinara rolled her neck, but it didn’t ease the tightness. She couldn’t believe how physically demanding this _adventuring_ was. Just the thought of her feather mattress back home made her want to cry. “We’re trying to protect them, don’t you want that?”

“Protect who?” Glimmer grumbled. “We’re supposed to be a team. That means we do things together. And not running off, doing whatever you want—” Glimmer interrupted herself to grab Chinara’s binoculars to see for herself. “Where’s Adora?” she said sharply.

“I don’t know,” Chinara said. “She left after the earthquake.”

Bow and Glimmer frowned at that, shared a look. Bow’s frowned deepened as he looked around at their little group. “Whaaat,” Bow pointed at the stun baton hanging from Takou’s belt, “are those for?”

Takou removed the stun baton, looking eager to talk to Bow about weapons, but he was cowed by Chinara’s glare. He stayed quiet as Chinara explained.

“If the worst happens,” Chinara said, choosing her words carefully, “and Catra is unable to control the Blue Tongue, then we will strike to protect the camp, and ourselves, of course. Mykola theorized that the Blue Tongue is vulnerable to electrical attack.”

Glimmer’s face cleared in surprise, and then grew dark. “The water.” She looked back over her shoulder toward the skink, and turned back with wide eyes, starting toward Chinara. “Catra is still over there.”

“Which is why I’m here personally to ensure nothing happens until and if she’s clear of the water,” Chinara said quickly.

Bow touched Glimmer’s outer wrist with his fingertips. “What do you think?” he whispered.

Chinara stared at them openly, amazed that they seemed to be having a silent conversation.

“We’ll go meet up with Catra,” Glimmer said. “We’ll make sure she’s far enough away.”

Bow shook his head. “You can’t attack the Blue Tongue,” he started, and then, talking over Glimmer’s protests, “and anyway, you should be here to make sure she only gives the signal when we’re all safe. I’ll go.”

Glimmer relented. “Okay, but—”

Everyone gasped at the next upheaval, sending Chinara’s field of vision tilting. Chinara grabbed the binoculars back from Glimmer before the desert even settled again, desperate to get a clear visual of the Blue Tongue and Catra. She watched the Blue Tongue heft itself back up, seemingly in another panic, watched as Catra assumed a defensive stance before it.

The giant skink’s movements were visible to everyone, and the men had their stun batons prepared, and were moved near the edge of the river.

“Hey!” Bow yelled. “My friend doesn’t know about this plan—she’s too close to the river. Actually,” he said, looking behind him where the water lapped at the soles of his boots after the last quake. “We’re _all_ too close to the river now.”

“He’s right,” Chinara said to them, without looking over, “stand down.”

They obeyed.

Chinara watched as Catra lunged toward the giant skink, as if to attack it in earnest, but then she seemed to change her mind, halted her attack. It also so happened that this meant that Catra and the skink were pushed back into the river.

“Catra, get away from the water,” Chinara said between her teeth.

“It’s okay,” Glimmer said, looking at the team along the river here, stun batons safely stowed. “Everyone backed off.”

“There’s another team,” Chinara admitted. “On the other side of the creature, around the bend in the river. Dahl should wait for my signal, but, with the Blue Tongue this aggressive—”

“What?” Bow squealed.

“That _maniac_ who kidnapped us?” Glimmer said.

“What’s the signal to abort the mission?” Bow demanded.

“There’s no signal… as such,” Chinara said. She gulped at the twin looks of angry incredulity on Bow and Glimmer’s faces. “They’re under strict orders to wait for the signal to act,” she said, trying to assuage their anxiety—and her own.

“That’s it,” Bow said. “I’m going. Glimmer, you should—” 

Chinara saw the red flare first in the reflection of Bow’s eyes as they widened in shock. By the time she spun around, the flare was falling.

* * *

The pain was like nothing Catra felt before. She felt sunk into herself, caged by her body, turned suddenly cruel. She felt she was reliving all the worst parts of her life, all at once. Paralyzed by Shadow Weaver’s cruel magic. Watching Adora leave her. The months after the portal, the realization she had gone to a place she could never come back from. Submerged in Horde Prime’s bath, the liquid burning her mind clean. Watching Adora slip through her fingers again, her eyes going dim.

And through all the memories, relived in quick, brutal succession, she felt something else. A presence. A plea that sounded like: _Help me_ , or _Listen to me_ , or just, _Stay_.

No more. Catra pulled her hand back and fell back, catching herself on her palms. “I’m sorry,” she babbled, crawling backward. “I can’t, I can’t.”

Catra met the Blue Tongue’s eye again, begging her to understand. _I wish I could,_ Catra thought, but even unsaid, the magic knew the thought was a lie. Catra doubled over in pain.

A cherry-red line of light rose in the night sky. Catra watched it bend in a pretty arc before it began its descent.

Catra knew what a flare looked like. She should have guessed; should have done something. But she didn’t. She was wrong. She would do nothing but destroy. She sat on the cool sand and watched the flare fall.

“Catra!” A voice called. “Get up! You’re too close!”

Catra turned, too dazed to respond. Fae’s silhouette sprinted toward her. Fae shook Catra’s shoulders wildly, grabbed at her hand, pulling her through the sand. Catra, galvanized by Fae’s shouting, regained her footing, letting her instincts and training take control.

Catra smelled the electricity, first. She and Fae both turned to watch as the river lit up. Spouts shot up around them, one after the other, reminding Catra more of the fireworks Bright Moon set off than of any explosions of war she knew. Before Catra was thrown backward by the force of it she watched the Blue Tongue light up, too, its outline clear and perfect against the dark mountains beyond.

* * *

Chinara grabbed Bow’s forearm before he could run to Catra—and the Blue Tongue. “Stop,” she said. “She’s okay. It’s Fae. She got her away from the water. She’s moving now. Look.” She thrust the binoculars into Bow’s hands.

“She’s right,” Bow said to Glimmer. “She looks okay. Fae looks—she might be really hurt. She’s not waking up.”

“And the Blue Tongue is not dead,” Chinara said, as she could see the lizard rousing even without the binoculars. “Wait!” Chinara called, halting Bow and Glimmer from running to their friend.

Chinara had spotted a giant glowing sword floating out in the desert behind them, fluorescent in the thin light of dawn.

“Adora,” Glimmer said, excited. “But what is she doing? Why isn’t she coming back from—what was she doing?”

“I don’t know,” Bow said. “Glimmer, find Adora. I’ll go with Chinara and help Catra and Fae.”

Glimmer nodded. “Okay.”

Bow kissed her on the forehead, and he joined Chinara as they raced to Catra and Fae.

* * *

Catra came to, Fae’s hand still clasped around hers. Catra’s head was pounding. Her tongue was huge, stuck to the roof of her mouth. She turned Fae over. A wound bled from the crown of her head. Catra pulled a strip of fabric off of her shirt, her mind shutting off, letting it work in the cold, detached way of battle and crisis.

The suns were rising. Catra’s mind churned. There was more she needed to attend to, but she was still fuzzy, her own body hurt. She would get Fae patched up before she did anything else. What had she been doing? The fear. Why had she been so afraid?

She tied the cloth around Fae’s head. There wasn’t much blood, but that wasn’t exactly comforting. She was still unresponsive. There was nothing else Catra could do for her.

The Blue Tongue. The past few hours came back to Catra at once. She twirled around. The Blue Tongue was still there, still on the sand now. Catra couldn’t tell if she was alive. Catra got up, meaning to go over and see, to help somehow, but she remembered at the last moment that the last thing Catra could do was touch her.

Catra pulled her hand back, clenching her fist, claws piercing into her skin. She had done this. The Blue Tongue had been terrified of her, Catra had felt as the Blue Tongue’s fear amplified as she felt Catra. As she recognized the corruption within her.

And then something else had happened. An explosion? Catra looked at the water marks on the sand, saw fish floating in the moving water, belly-up, one of the cat-like yellow animals lying on the riverbank with a twisted neck. Where _was_ everyone?

“You’re okay, are you?” A woman appeared at the other side of the Blue Tongue. Dahl. Her hair blew out from her head in the wind like ribbons. Her yellow eyes, huge, flashed in the sunrise. They were not unlike the Blue Tongue’s eyes.

“Uh, yeah,” Catra said, her voice raspy. She licked her lips, cleared her dry throat. “What happened?”

Dahl walked in front of the Blue Tongue, letting one hand run along the front of the skink’s snout. “Still alive, I think. Did she attack you?” Dahl looked at Catra.

“What?” Catra said. “No, she’s just confused. She didn’t mean to—” Catra looked at her own hand, felt the panic through the Blue Tongue, as she sensed, as she felt Catra’s own corruption. “She felt it, in me,” Catra whispered. “She was scared of me.”

“So you do know,” Dahl said, and then turned back to the Blue Tongue, petting it, humming low.

Catra turned away. What was she doing, saying that to this stranger? She needed to get it together. She needed to find help for Fae.

“Where is everyone?” Catra said, summoning her commander’s voice. “Fae’s hurt.”

Dahl did not pause her ministrations to the skink. Catra scowled at her, turned away. Where was Adora? The ground felt solid again at her feet. Adora should _be here._

“Are you _ignoring_ me?” Catra started in at Dahl, only to stop short at the sight of Dahl with a thin, long dagger.

Dahl was standing before the Blue Tongue’s giant eye, close to Catra, whispered something, gentle, and thrust the long point of the blade through the skink’s eye.

The lizard spasmed, once, twice, and was still again.

“What are you—?” Catra said, staring as Dahl removed the dagger from the skink’s eye, blood and membrane slick on the blade. Dahl used her own sleeve to clean the gore.

“You have no idea what you’ve done,” Dahl said.

* * *

Someone was calling Adora’s name.

She opened her eyes. A familiar pink-haired figure was running toward her. Adora lifted her arm to show she was alive. In a few more moments, Glimmer was shaking Adora so hard she almost bit her tongue off. “Wake up!” Glimmer said.

Adora rolled over to face her. “Glimmer! I’m awake! My eyes are _open_.”

Glimmer sat back on the balls of her feet, in a crouch. “Oh, right.”

Adora narrowed her eyes at her.

Glimmer grinned. “For real, you’re okay? We were so worried! What are you doing?”

“I’m just, you know, resting.” Adora grimaced as her voice tightened at the end. She sat up to prove her point, but then she had to fall back down when her head spun.

“What?” Glimmer said. “And what are you even doing out here?”

“Oh,” Adora said, letting her head fall on the ground again. “I just fixed the whatchamacall ‘em—tectonic plates. Stop the earthquakes.”

“She-Ra fixed the fault plane?” Glimmer said, not nearly as impressed as Catra had been. “That’s one problem down at least.” She laughed a little, and then crossed her arms over her chest. “You used too much She-Ra energy, huh? And now you can’t move?”

“You’re patronizing me,” Adora grumbled.

Glimmer laughed, loud clear peals. “Aw, She-Ra knows a new word.”

“You’re still doing it!” Adora complained.

Glimmer grinned, uncontrite.

“Catra told me I better learn what it is so I quit doing it,” Adora confessed, which sent Glimmer into a fit of laughter again. “The Horde didn’t exactly teach us… social vocabulary, okay?” Adora said, even as she started laughing herself.

“Here,” Adora said, lifting her arms. “Help me up.” Glimmer took Adora’s arms and pulled her upright. After Adora took a few breaths she focused. “Catra’s okay with the Blue Tongue?” she asked.

Adora felt her heart rate rise as Glimmer’s face darkened. “What?” Adora said. “What’s wrong?” Adora swallowed, a barbed tongue of guilt lapping at her insides. Why did she leave her with the Blue Tongue? She had been so sure she wouldn’t hurt Catra— _knew_ she wouldn’t hurt Catra, as surely as Adora knew she wouldn’t herself. But the Blue Tongue was still a massive skink, scared and alone. And Adora’s instincts had been wrong before. 

“Everything’s okay,” Glimmer said. “Don’t worry, I just think you should rest before—”

“What happened?” Adora demanded.

“Catra’s totally fine,” Glimmer said, Adora noticing the dodge, “but Fae’s injured. Bow went to them. I don’t know about the Blue Tongue,” she admitted. “Apparently it made a move for the camp again, and—they attacked it.”

Adora took a breath, the worst of her fears assuaged for now. For one minute, that Adora tried to forget as soon as it was over, Adora wondered: _Had Catra attacked the Blue Tongue, after all?_ “Tell me.”

“Chinara and some of the Basa made a ‘back-up plan’ without telling us,” Glimmer said darkly.

Adora listened carefully as Glimmer relayed what she had seen. Adora’s heart sunk as Glimmer explained that the Blue Tongue seemed to have been with hit with the electrical current. Of course Catra hadn’t attacked. Adora felt a flash of guilt that she had even considered it. Before Glimmer even stopped speaking, Adora was standing and transforming back to She-Ra.

Adora turned to look at Glimmer when she didn’t immediately follow. “Glimmer. I can heal them. Come on.”

“All right, all right,” Glimmer said, following She-Ra back to the river. “Do not pass out before we get back, I can’t carry you in _any_ form.”

* * *

In death, the Blue Tongue’s eye was impossible to ignore. The wound from Dahl’s knife bled, the red seeping through the umber iris. The pierced outer membrane was already clouding, and if Catra had needed further evidence that the giant skink was truly dead, that would have been it. This final injustice against the Blue Tongue struck Catra as unbearably cruel. What could be worse than being laid so bare in front of your own murderer?

And Catra had let it happen. She was going to be sick.

But Catra had no time to succumb to her body’s weakness. Dahl had turned to consider her. Catra hadn’t realized how close she had allowed Dahl to get, how vulnerable Catra’s own position was. The woman must have hidden the stun baton in her robes. She took two, three steps and she was at Catra’s side. Catra reached up to twist the woman’s forearm, pin it behind her back, but Catra was slow with shock and horror. The charged end of the weapon pressed into Catra’s bicep before she could disarm it. Catra went down hard, her body seizing and unable to soften the fall. 

“You see now, don’t you, girl?” Dahl said, her normal booming voice back now. She leaned over pushing Catra’s head to the side, baring the spots darkening underneath her fur. Catra hissed at the woman’s touch, but couldn’t yet form words. “You corrupted it. The Blue Tongue knew, didn’t she?”

Catra could do nothing but breathe through the shocks.

Dahl straightened, the suns rising behind her, her elongated shadow blotting Catra in darkness. Dahl took the wrappings off her long hair, letting the brown strands fall on either side of her face in the windless morning. It did nothing to soften the hard line of her jaw, the stony stillness in her eye. Catra had underestimated this woman. She had taken her anger for mere theatrics. Catra really should have been able to identify bitterness better than that.

“The corruption was already driving the Blue Tongue to madness,” Dahl said, “but when she reacted to your touch, I knew for sure that you were corrupted, too. If you go to the source, you will ruin us all.”

Catra understood that Dahl meant to kill her. Catra tried to will away the temporary paralysis, tried to rally, but she couldn’t even feel her limbs, much less move them. She looked up again at Dahl, a blazing figure of shadow, and knew that like everything else, Catra had brought this on herself.

That didn’t mean Catra was going to let this ridiculous alien succeed where so many others had failed. She raked her eyes over Dahl, determining her center of gravity, the way she preferred her left side, as if compensating for an old wound. Dahl was stalling. Catra would be ready to strike as soon as she could.

Dahl’s hands shook as she touched her own neck, pulling the robes down even further to reveal the now-familiar splotches. Catra stared. She hadn’t been expecting that. “It took years for the marks to show on my skin. How long have you had the magic? Weeks?” She tilted her head to regard Catra. “You actually ingested it, didn’t you?”

Dahl shook her head in disgust. “You thought you were so much better than us. With your She-Ra and your pristine little planet. Believing you could fight the corruption. But look at you. You’re riddled with it. You’ve taken as much corruption in weeks as I have in decades. You’re a warrior, aren’t you? A killer.” Dahl retrieved the dagger from her robes, but kept her eyes on Catra. “Like me.”

Catra mustered a snarl, and as weak as it was compared to what she could usually manage, Dahl still flinched. Catra could feel tingling at the tips of her fingers now. She resisted the urge to move them. She needed to keep Dahl thinking she was helpless.

Still, she couldn’t help but hiss, snapping her jaws. Their stun batons hurt a lot more than the Horde’s.

Dahl noticed Catra’s reaction, and something in her eyes lifted. “I don’t want to do this.” She sat on the sand, motions stiff and careful, elbows resting on her knees. “But I have to. I don’t think I’d even be able to kill if it weren’t for the corruption. You feel it in yourself now, don’t you? The urge to lash out, to hurt? The anger and pain.”

Catra met Dahl’s golden eyes, and realized the woman wanted permission to kill her. Catra bared her fangs.

Dahl sighed. “Maybe your magic is different and you really did think it would work. Maybe the Spire duped you into taking the zil.” She trailed off, looking out across the river, the carcasses of the other animals the electricity had killed decaying on the bank. “That’s what my people call the magic,” she said in a rasping whisper. “Or they would, if there was anyone left.”

Catra stilled. This was good. Dahl was hesitating. She felt guilty. Catra coughed, cleared her throat, and said in a hoarse, but just audible voice: “Did you kill them too?”

Dahl tensed for a moment, and then laughed, bitterly. “You can talk already, then.” She brought the long dagger from her robes once again. “No, I didn’t kill my people. The Spire did that.” Dahl rose to her knees, considering Catra. “I—” Her throat closed up and she looked away, breaking eye contact. She took a shuddering breath, and said only: “I’ll make it quick.”

Catra considered that maybe alerting Dahl to the fact that Catra could speak hadn’t been the best move. But it had made Catra feel better. And now she could feel tingling up to her knees and her elbows. It was enough. It had to be.

As soon as Dahl was in range of Catra’s legs, Catra struck out. If Catra wasn’t affected by paralysis, it would have been one fast, efficient motion, sending Dahl tumbling to the dirt, face-first. But Catra’s body hadn’t recovered from the stun yet, and all the strike did was surprise Dahl. She maintained her balance on her knees, and reached out to secure Catra’s legs, now flailing wildly without connecting another hit. Dahl’s hold was fast and strong and scared Catra more than anything else had. Catra had no more tricks up her sleeve.

Catra caught movement from the corner of her eye. A figure, approaching fast. Catra saw nothing more than a blur of black clothing slam into Dahl, sending her flying in the way Catra’s leg had not.

Catra had forgotten. She wasn’t alone anymore.

Catra followed the tussle, trying to determine who her savior was. Not Adora, this time. Her form would never be _that_ bad. Not Glimmer, or Bow either. The pair on the sand tumbled over one another yet again, the newcomer straddling Dahl, a messy but no less ferocious pin. The person lifted her head, her blue and purple skull markings radiant, her expression furious. Catra couldn’t believe it. It was Chinara.

“Catra, are you okay?” Bow called, his bow trained on Dahl, approaching fast now.

Catra was still watching Chinara as she grappled with Dahl. Dahl bucked underneath her, and Chinara went boneless, allowing all of her weight to fall onto Dahl. It seemed to surprise Dahl so much that it knocked the wind out of her. Catra wanted to laugh. It made Chinara look ridiculous. Dahl was cursing at her, clearly uncomfortable with being in such close contact with a Spire woman.

“Catra?!” Bow repeated, voice high and panicked.

“I’m fine,” Catra said, loud as she could, feeling a spike of warmth from Bow’s clear concern. “Took you long enough,” she said, although the truth was she hadn’t even considered that someone other than Adora might come to save her.

“Stop fighting, Dahl,” Bow called. “Chinara, move away.”

Chinara rolled off of Dahl in an uncoordinated, jarring movement, all loose limbs and flying robes. Bow shot an arrow before Dahl had a chance to move, trapping her in a net. Catra saw the dagger and stun baton lying in the sand. Dahl had lost her grip on them in the tussle with Chinara.

Bow fell to his knees by Catra. “I’m alive,” she said. “Help me up.” She lifted her arm with minimal shaking.

Bow lifted her all the way up and into a warm, tight hug.

“I said I was alive,” Catra said, accepting the hug for three seconds before squirming out of the embrace. “Go check on Fae. She got hurt.”

“I’m so glad you’re okay!” Bow said, voice squeaking at the end. “And yeah, I know. We saw. I’ll be right back.” He rushed over to where Fae still lay in the sand.

“Catra?!” She-Ra was bounding over to her now, flashing with the power of her magic. She-Ra took in the scene before her quickly, darting from Catra, to Bow and Fae, her face scrunching in confusion as she saw Chinara standing over Dahl’s writhing form. “What’s going on?” she said.

“Dahl was going to kill you, wasn’t she?” Chinara said, hands on her knees and panting, to Catra.

“That was the worst fight I’ve ever seen,” Catra said to Chinara. “Can’t believe you got the jump on her.” Chinara gave her a dazed look and smiled. Catra looked away—she hadn’t meant to let the note of gratitude in her voice. She knew perfectly well that Chinara had only saved her because she was the conduit, because her mission depended on Catra’s survival.

“What?” She-Ra said, eyes going wide, coming to Catra’s side. She ran her hands over Catra’s arm, and Catra felt the last of the paralysis leave her as She-Ra’s magic healed.

“I’m fine,” Catra said. “She just stunned me.”

Catra watched She-Ra turn to Dahl, that look in her eyes like she was going to blast apart whatever was in her way. She-Ra approached Dahl, struggling in the netting. She drew her sword and pointed it in Dahl’s direction. “Why?” she demanded.

“You have to accept it,” Dahl said, desperation in her voice now. “Her fate is decided. She’s corrupted the magic. And she’ll destroy us all if she tries to reignite it. Will you doom an entire planet, Ponytail?” she said, voice booming, rage and pain twisting her features.

“Don’t call me that,” She-Ra said, sword steady and trained at Dahl’s heart. 

Dahl’s chest was rising and falling. Catra recognized the panic of being trapped. She had the feeling it wasn’t Dahl’s first time. “You want to kill me, don’t you?” Dahl said, intent. “Not even She-Ra can withstand it.”

She-Ra swung the sword in a high arc. Dahl grimaced, prepared for the blow. The blade tore through the netting entrapping Dahl. Catra shook her head, but she was smirking. Leave it to Adora to be as dramatic as possible.

“Get up,” She-Ra said, letting Dahl disentangle herself. She-Ra bound Dahl’s wrists with magical energy. “We’ll let your people decide your fate.” 

Dahl looked up at She-Ra, pleading now. “You must know. You must know I’m right. Will you let us all die for one girl?”

She-Ra waved her sword again, gagging Dahl with magic. “That’s better,” she said, and crumpled, the She-Ra form leaving her. 

Catra jumped forward, catching her torso, at least, before it fell. “Adora?!” Catra took her chin in the hand not used to support her, panicking at the sight of her closed lids, but Adora roused immediately, moaning, before she said, “’S fine.”

Glimmer was kneeling beside her. “I think she’s just drained. Turns out fixing the fault plane took a lot of She-Ra juice.”

“Idiot,” Catra said.

Adora opened her eyes and scrunched her nose at that, but then her face fell as she seemed to come back to reality some. “I can’t—I have to heal Fae and the Blue Tongue.”

“You just collapsed,” Glimmer said, unimpressed.

“Fae’s pulse was steady.” Bow was next to them now. “We’ll get her to the Basa’s healers.”

But Adora was sitting up, shaking her head, glowing with weak light as she raised her hand for her sword. “I can do it.”

Catra snatched her hand. “If you try it, I’ll stun you and drag you back.”

Glimmer and Bow, to Catra’s delight, agreed.

“Traitors,” Adora said to them, scowling.

Glimmer and Bow went to check on Fae again. Catra heard Glimmer yelling at Chinara about keeping an eye on Dahl. Catra didn’t like entrusting the person who had just tried to kill her with the person who had tried to kill them all several times, but she saw that She-Ra’s magic bindings were true, unaffected by Adora’s weakened state.

Catra looked back down at Adora. “I can’t believe I’m the one who just got attacked by an alien lady and I’m going to carry _you_ back to camp.” Catra meant it to be teasing, but she just sounded tired.

Adora reached up and touched a cut Catra hadn’t noticed on her chin. “I can’t believe she tried to hurt you.”

Catra rolled her eyes. “I keep telling you not to trust every random desert alien lady you meet.”

Adora’s face darkened more at that, which was not Catra’s intention at all. “The Blue Tongue’s dead, isn’t she?” she whispered.

Catra nodded. “I’m sorry.” Catra lowered her head.

“I could sense it,” Adora said, and Catra hated how detached she looked. “As She-Ra.” Her eyes focused on Dahl again, standing next to Chinara. “Dahl,” she said, voice more dull than the accusing tone Catra expected.

Catra nodded. “I messed up,” she said, voice tight. “I touched the Blue Tongue—I thought I could talk to her like you did—that’s when she reacted. Gave Dahl an excuse to attack, I guess. When I touched her—she felt—” Catra couldn’t finish the sentence, was trying to forget the pain she had relived all at once. “Dahl said I was—” She couldn’t finish the sentence, didn’t even know how to. She squeezed her eyes shut. _You’re riddled with it_ , Dahl had said. _A killer,_ she had called her.

“Catra!” Glimmer yelled. “You have Adora? Let’s go.”

“We gotta go,” Catra said. She tried to pick Adora up, but Adora insisted on walking herself, and Catra told herself it was for the best.

* * *

After Adora had slept for twelve hours and eaten more than she had since they left Etheria, she was ready to transform again. She-Ra helped the Basa people with the Blue Tongue’s burial, opening up the land where she had fallen for her body to rest. Adora laid her hand along the Blue Tongue’s scales before she lowered her. She knew better, but she still expected to feel something from the Blue Tongue’s thoughts and feelings. Of course she felt nothing.

After Angella’s death, Glimmer had hated that she didn’t have a body to bury. She said she felt like she had abandoned her mother. Adora could understand why she felt that way, and knew this grief didn’t compare to Glimmer’s, but Adora didn’t feel any better from having seen and touched the Blue Tongue now. Adora only felt sick at the sight of the once-majestic skink now still and dull. Adora shouldn’t have left Catra alone with the Blue Tongue. She-Ra could have prevented this.

Naj said a few words to the group gathered at the riverbank. She looked exhausted.

She had not believed them, at first, when they brought Dahl back, bound and gagged. But when Adora had released the gag, Dahl hadn’t tried to defend herself. She told Naj and the few others from the Basa council gathered everything that happened in terse but brutal detail. Naj was openly weeping by the time Dahl told of her intent to murder Catra, and couldn’t bear to look Dahl in the eyes. Still, Adora was wary now, knew that she couldn’t trust Naj’s sense of morality to win out over her personal affections. But when Dahl had started pleading for Catra’s swift execution for the good of Zilharr, Adora had returned the gag, and Naj had ordered Dahl imprisoned.

Catra told them her version of events after they led Dahl away. Her story corroborated in fact if not in sentiment with Dahl’s. As Adora listened, she didn’t know if she was more furious with Dahl or with herself.

Now that they were all back together, having eaten and rested and mourned, Adora announced the only good news she had: she had solved the matter of the earthquakes.

What Adora had considered a casual statement had caused an uproar, and a lot of explanations (mostly from Bow) about the nature of She-Ra’s power.

“You healed… the fault plane?” Mykola said, in shock.

“Yep,” Adora said.

Mykola and Takou had entered the meeting area yesterday after Dahl was taken away, listening intently to Catra’s story. They had both been warm and welcoming, but Adora was feeling confused and wary of everyone other than Catra, Bow, and Glimmer, and kept having to repress the urge to grab the three of them and run as far as she could.

Adora chastised herself. She would at least have to include Fae in this fantasy-escape. Adora was well-aware of how much the girl hated her, but she would happily include anyone who had saved Catra in her circle of friends. Adora had been very relieved when a Basa doctor told them that Fae’s wounds were minor, and that she would recover soon.

Adora didn’t know how to feel about Chinara, who had both put her friends at great risk and then helped to save them. Chinara had been strangely silent since they had returned to camp. Adora felt a headache coming on and rubbed the bridge of her nose.

These feelings of distrust, the urge to run, did not suit Adora at all. But she was scared. The Blue Tongue was powerful, and old, and knew this planet well, and even she hadn’t survived. What hope did the rest of them have?

“What happened when you tried to heal Catra?” Mykola was saying to Adora directly now.

“Uh—sorry,” Adora said. “When?”

“After you all noticed the marks on her neck,” Mykola said. “You think it’s a disease of some sort, right? But that should have worked if it was a regular illness.”

Adora was jolted awake. She locked eyes with Catra beside her. Adora laughed, surprised, almost giddy with hope. “We didn’t,” Adora breathed. “We haven’t tried.”

“I didn’t even think about it with everything that happened,” Glimmer said, voice high and bubbly.

“Adora couldn’t transform when we first found out,” Bow pointed out. “And then we were a little busy. Try it now, Adora!” Bow encouraged her.

Adora looked at Catra, and found her expression twisted.

“It won’t work,” Catra said. “It’s not like that. It’s not an injury. It’s—” She shook her head.

Adora opened her mouth to argue, but she realized that the last thing Catra—or she, for that matter—wanted was to have this conversation in front of everyone.

“We’ll talk to you guys later,” Adora said, and pulled Catra out of the tent.

* * *

Catra let Adora lead her out to the edge of camp, to where it was finally quiet and peaceful, a patch of flat, hard desert, the uninterrupted splendor of the stars above them. It was beautiful, but it was too open, too vast. Catra couldn’t stand to look up for long.

“Can I try? Please?” Adora lifted her hands to either side of Catra’s neck. Catra nodded.

Adora transformed. Her hands doubled in size on Catra’s neck until they covered the skin from her collarbones to the back of her skull. Being held like that was comforting, overwhelming, safe and alarming all at once—it was very _Adora_. Catra looked up to watch Adora glow golden, face frowning in concentration. The magic healed the little cuts and bruises Catra had sustained in the fight. It helped, a little.

The magic thrummed between them. Catra was just letting herself relax into the strange embrace when Adora cried out in frustration. Adora came back to her own body and tore herself away from Catra. She paced on the hard sand.

Catra lifted her hand to her neck, where she knew the marks would still be. “Guess it didn’t work, huh.” She tried to keep her voice steady.

Adora didn’t pause her pacing.

“Adora.” Catra already knew it was her, something inside of her. She-Ra couldn’t heal that. Still, there was a part of Catra that was disappointed. There was a part of Catra that believed Adora could fix anything. Even her. Adora was still stomping across the hard sand.

“What?” Catra said, sharper than she meant. A silent Adora never led to anything good.

“How can I heal a stupid—fault plane but not you?” she said, furious.

“Guess I’m more messed up than this whole planet,” Catra said.

Adora hunched her shoulders as she quickened her pace. “We have to leave,” she said. “This isn’t working. I know it made you mad before when I said that, but this is too much.”

“You really would just _leave_?” Catra wrapped her arms around herself. It was cold now that the suns were gone, that Adora had moved away. Catra felt untethered, like the planet might give up its gravity on her at any moment.

“ _Yes_.” Adora spun to look at Catra. “It’s making you sick.” She looked like she wanted to say more, but she stopped. When Catra didn’t say anything, Adora kneeled in front of her and took Catra’s hands. “Catra. _Please_. Let’s go home.”

Catra couldn’t hold Adora’s pleading gaze for long. She looked down between them. She felt the pull to anger, a phantom desire. Not really there; not really gone.

Catra knew it was true. She had known, really, from the first she heard it. She was corrupting their magic. She was supposed to be embracing it, now. She was supposed to feel empowered by this new acceptance of herself—the ruthless one, the cold, calculating one who would do whatever necessary to protect her friends.

Catra didn’t feel empowered.

Ever since she had touched the Blue Tongue, felt that horrible, aching grief that the Blue Tongue felt when she sensed Catra’s corruption, Catra hadn’t been able to lie to herself, at least. Catra looked at Adora, kneeling in front of her, eyes pleading.

Catra felt angry, and worse—unbearably fragile. _It’s not her you’re mad at_ , Catra reminded herself.

“We can do whatever,” Adora started, “after Entrapta gets you healed. Go wherever. Anything you want. But I’m asking you, let’s go back. I can’t—” Adora waved her hands, let them drop. “They don’t even need us here.”

Adora looked away, and Catra knew they both understood that was a lie. Catra knew Adora remembered the way Naj and Mykola looked, after Chinara told them what she meant, about igniting the source, about how their planet only had so long left if they didn’t do something. Catra had seen, too, how Adora had looked. Her mission face, her hero face—resolute and shining. But it didn’t matter, did it? Catra had already failed.

“Catra,” Adora said again. “Let’s leave.”

Catra let Adora hold her hands. Adora’s hands were warm, and dry, and gentle. Catra felt dizzy. It wasn’t the first time Adora had asked her to leave. Everything was conditional for Adora, wasn’t it? Even promises. Even her. _Adora will always leave_. The thought caught in her mind like thread catching on one of her claws. This thought was familiar, nearly comforting.

There were days after the war that Catra couldn’t stand Bright Moon’s food. Too rich, too heavy. What she wanted was a dull old ration bar. She wouldn’t like it, but she would know how it would taste. How it would sit in her stomach. That’s how she felt now, grasping for any familiar feeling, no matter how much she hated it.

But Catra had practice with this particular hated feeling, and she knew it wasn’t right. Not really. Adora wasn’t going to leave her on this planet. She wanted to go together. And Catra knew Adora was right. They should leave. Catra had already proved that she couldn’t do this. She thought about the sight of the Blue Tongue disappearing into the ground, all that power and magic snuffed out in a moment. She thought of how small she was, compared to the giant skink, and how weak.

“Back to Etheria.” Catra tried to keep the words neutral, knew she didn’t succeed.

“Yeah,” Adora said. “I want to convince you that you don’t have to do this, that you don’t have to go through this—” She stopped, searching Catra’s face, and her own fell from whatever she found there. “I’m not saying this right. You’re mad.”

Catra felt the anger differently once Adora named it. She felt it separate from herself, a parasite writhing writing in her gut. She could ignore it. She wouldn’t let it ruin everything now. “Okay. I’ll go back. Like you want.”

“You’re still angry.” Adora sat back on the sand, hands braced on her crossed legs.

Catra clenched her teeth. “I’m trying not to be but you’re making it difficult.”

“I’m glad you’re trying,” Adora said, “but we have to decide together.”

“Adora.” Catra released a big breath of air, all of her careful control slipping. “You _just_ said—”

“I know what I said, but what do you think?” Adora pressed. “I mean, you were mad before, when I said we should go.”

The words had all the single-mindedness Catra knew well, but there was a hesitancy she didn’t expect. Catra narrowed her eyes at Adora. “You’re worried that I’ll freak out on you.” Adora tilted her head down a fraction and Catra knew she was right. The uncomplicated pleasure of reading Adora correctly loosened some of the tension in her body.

Adora opened her mouth, grimaced. “… No?”

“I don’t know why you’d be worried about _that_ ,” Catra said.

“Catra.”

“I mean it’s not like I have a history of _anger_ issues—”

“ _Catra_.”

“It’s not like we ever _fight_ each other.”

“Cat- _ra!”_ Adora reached over to muss Catra’s hair, but Catra was already on the defensive, swatting away Adora’s reaching hands. They were both laughing a little, and Catra let herself be eased by the casual, playful touch. Even on the worst days in the Fright Zone, they’d always found comfort like this.

“You didn’t answer the question,” Adora said, voice stern but eyes soft. She repositioned so she was sitting with her legs crossed, facing Catra.

Catra pulled her knees up to her chest but didn’t turn away. “Listen,” Catra said. “I don’t even care about reigniting their stupid source, so we might as well leave.” Catra hissed at the pain from the lie.

Adora didn’t say anything, but she drew herself up straighter, pulling away from how she had been curved closer to Catra.

“Ugh, okay, fine,” Catra said. “I don’t care about it as much as I care about you, all right?” Catra hung her head back. “I don’t want to fight.”

Adora was smiling in a smug way now. “That’s sweet,” she sing-songed. She took Catra’s cheeks in her hands and rubbed them between her palms.

“Can you stop?” Catra squealed, willing a purr away.

Adora took Catra’s hands in her own instead, urging her to loosen the death grip Catra had on her own legs. “But it’s still not an answer.” Adora peered into Catra’s eyes like she was trying to read small print there. “I feel like—I just _made_ you feel like we have to go but we said we would decide together and I don’t want to do that.”

“Can we not talk about it?” Catra said, groaning, squeezing Adora’s hands so she didn’t pull away again. “You’re right, okay? You can’t _make_ me do anything. I know I’m being stupid about this and it doesn’t matter right now. So let’s just grab Bow and Sparkles and go get our radios and get someone to come get us.”

“What you feel matters,” Adora said, eyes wide and clear.

Catra turned her head down, all the fight leaving her at once. “You don’t have to—” Catra stopped herself before the pain could come. “Just drop it,” she whined, instead.

Adora sighed. She pulled her hands out of Catra’s and sat back, leaning on her hands behind her. She was clearly waiting—Catra knew she would wait like that all night if it came to it.

“I…” Catra stared at Adora. Her face softened when Catra met her eyes, and Catra lost her nerve. “You won’t really give up on them,” Catra said, which was not why she was upset but was a real concern. “You’ll be back here before Entrapta gets her hair off me.”

“It’s not giving up,” Adora started, and Catra could tell she had had this conversation with herself already. “It’s tactical adaptation.”

Catra rolled her eyes.

Adora jutted her chin, eyes trained carefully over the horizon. “We don’t have to solve everyone’s problems.”

Catra lifted an eyebrow.

As the silence stretched, Adora looked over at her. “What?”

“Do I have to look at your neck?” Catra said. She tipped forward on her knees so she could lean into Adora, brushing the tip of her nose to the side of Adora’s neck instead of examining it.

“What?” Adora said, satisfyingly breathy.

Catra opened her mouth to let her fang graze Adora’s skin.

Adora managed to both squirm away from and down into it the touch at the same time. “Catra!”

“What?” Catra grinned and pulled away just enough to flick the back of Adora’s neck with her fingers. “Figured you must have gotten chipped. You?” she said, incredulous. “Not wanting to solve _everybody’s_ problems?”

Adora tried to give her a scathing look to disguise her fluster. It didn’t work. “What? Hah. No," she said, finally settling on petulant. “I don’t have to get involved in everything, okay?”

“Sure, you don’t, princess.” Catra sat back, grinning toothily. She was pleased to have finally gotten some control over the conversation.

“Uh! Hey—I—” Adora’s frustration cleared, she lowered her hands and leveled Catra with a long look. “I don’t want you to get hurt.” Her eyebrows scrunched together. “I just got you back.”

Catra blinked. She still wasn’t used to hearing Adora say things like that. She felt a warm, heady rush of something she suspected was just _love_ and had to fight her instinct to run away from it. “Fine,” she said, soft.

“So you want to leave?” Adora said, hopeful.

“Sure, yeah,” Catra said, “I want to leave.” She couldn’t stop the grimace from the pain of the magic. “Ugh!” Catra said, “No!” She pointed at Adora, her face tight with concentration. “Not fair! You can’t respond to that it’s like you’re—you’re interrogating me under a truth spell.”

Adora looked unimpressed. “Just tell me.”

“I already did,” Catra said, morose.

“I told you,” Adora said. “I’ll—if you don’t want to come back here, after, I won’t. We won’t. We’ll find another way to help. I promise.”

Catra nodded, willing the misery to dissipate. She should be thrilled with Adora promising something like that. It should be enough.

“That’s not it, is it?” Adora pressed.

Catra groaned, loud and long. “Why are you observant _now_?”

“Because I’m trying to listen,” Adora said, eyes flashing, hands gesturing in quick, short bursts like she could battle through this problem, too. “I want to know what you really think. I used to think I knew everything you were thinking, always. But I didn’t. I don’t want to do that again.”

Catra stared. Adora was saying so many of the things Catra always wanted—and it still wasn’t—enough. It wasn’t—Catra looked back at Adora. She was chewing on her lip now, thinking hard. She looked beautiful like that, in the barely-there light of the moons. Silvery and ethereal. She had moved just far enough away from Catra that they weren’t touching at all anymore.

Everything was different now and it was still all exactly the same.

“I wanted you to believe I was good enough, okay?” Catra said, launching herself from the ground spinning away from Adora. Catra kicking the sand. The plume did nothing but stick to her legs. “I wanted you to think Dahl was wrong, that I wasn’t corrupting it. That I could still do this. Do anything.” She looked back at Adora’s shocked face. “I know! It’s stupid. You knew from the beginning, didn’t you? Right after I took the vial. You knew it would never work because I’m not _good_ enough. And you were trying to make me feel better. But you knew I would corrupt it. That I already was.”

Catra couldn’t stand to see Adora’s face. She curled into a ball on the sand, her head on her knees. “It was _months_ ago I was still fighting you. I almost blew up the planet. I _meant to_. I hurt everyone. I hurt _you_. And I thought—what? I was all good now?” Catra heard the self-loathing seeping into her voice, dark and poisonous. She couldn’t stop. “That I could be a hero now? Like none of it happened? Like I was worth something _now_?”

“It’s pathetic,” Catra said, still into her knees, only vaguely aware of the hoarseness of her voice, of the shaking of her limbs, of that sinking weightlessness that signaled her awareness of her own base nature. “I know everything I did hasn’t disappeared. They were all right—everybody who saw through me. Prime knew what I was like, and Double Trouble, even _Sparkles_. Shadow Weaver knew best of all, of course. Congratulations, old hag, you were right, I was never, ever going to be _anything_ —”

“Catra!” Adora said, face right in front of hers, and Catra realized it wasn’t the first time Adora had spoken. “Stop. Stop it.”

Catra didn’t realize how fast she was breathing. “You should _know_ —what I—”

“Don’t talk like that,” Adora said, her voice tight.

The emotion in her voice made Catra focus on Adora’s face. “Sorry,” she ground out.

“It’s okay.” Adora wiped Catra’s cheeks with the pads of her thumbs. Catra hadn’t realized she was crying. “Don’t ever say she was right about you again. She wasn’t right about anything. Especially not you.”

Catra breathed through the sob caught in her chest and let Adora run her hands through Catra’s hair, over and over. Her fingers stopped to massage her scalp. Catra didn’t want to pull away but she couldn’t stop thinking that it was wrong for Adora to touch her.

“What did you mean about you corrupting it or whatever?” Adora whispered, hands still gentle on Catra’s scalp. “Of course you’re not. None of this is your fault. It’s a sickness."

Catra felt the urge to let Adora comfort her, to get lost in it, to accept what she was saying. She couldn’t. She took Adora’s hands off her, very gently. “Don’t lie to me, Adora.”

  
“I’m not lying,” Adora said, voice hard. “I’ve never thought you were corrupt and I never will.”

Catra glared. “You said right away we should leave. Like you knew it was me doing it, like you knew I was a lost cause! We both know I’m not like you, I’m not—good.”

“I’ve _never_ thought that,” Adora said, vehement.

Catra just turned her head to the side, cheek pillowed on her knee. “The Blue Tongue knew.” Catra’s voice came out rough, almost a growl. “She couldn’t stand to touch me. She felt the corruption. That’s why she panicked again.”

“You really thought…” Adora started, “I wanted us to leave because I thought you weren’t good enough for their magic?”

“Obviously,” Catra grumbled.

There were several moments of silence again, Catra still refusing to look at Adora.

“Okay,” Adora said. “You’re right. Let’s keep going. Maybe we can get there before Entrapta could get to us, anyway. Come on.” She held her hand out for Catra. “Let’s go talk to Naj about those transports she mentioned to get to Mount Zil.”

“What?” Catra said, ignoring Adora’s outstretched hand.

“I shouldn’t have freaked out,” Adora said, twisting a little away from Catra, looking both bashful and determined. “But I know you’re not corrupted, and you can do this.”

Catra raised her head. “Didn’t you hear what I told everyone Dahl said to me? She said this means,” Catra raised her hand to her neck, “that I’m corrupt. That’s it’s _too late_.”

Adora lifted one side of her mouth in a half-smile. “You believe whatever any old desert lady says to you?”

“That’s not—what—” Catra sputtered.

“That’s not how magic works,” Adora insisted. “She’s wrong.”

“You are the most annoying person I have ever met,” Catra said, almost hiding the pain from the lie. Adora smiled when she saw that, but Catra pressed on. “See? I can’t go five minutes without lying. I already ruined it.”

Adora sighed, working her mouth from side-to-side for several moments before she spoke again. “Remember when we were like—thirteen, I think?” she started. “And I got sent to Practicals early?”

“Shadow Weaver couldn’t _wait_ to send you,” Catra said, latching on to the sour memory automatically. “What does that have—?”

“And you wouldn’t talk to me at all the week before that.” Adora had turned herself around so she and Catra were shoulder to shoulder. “I was so worried you would never talk to me again. You wouldn’t even respond to my notes.” Adora’s voice was whiny, but she nudged Catra with her shoulder good-naturedly.

Catra put her head down again. She didn’t know how Adora thought this story would make her feel better.

“And Practicals sucked _so much,”_ Adora continued. “I had to do Transport because I didn’t have the right staff and it messed up my technique. And everyone hated me and I was scared and all alone, and then—” Adora beamed. “You snuck in to see me at the other barracks. You brought me my staff. Even though you could’ve gotten into so much trouble.”

“Yeah, and having the right staff didn’t matter at all,” Catra reminded her. “You weren’t even in Hand-to-hand. I didn’t help you at all, you didn’t need the staff.”

“I needed you,” Adora said, matter-of-fact. “I don’t think I would have survived growing up without you.” Adora swallowed. “I’m not worried that you’re not good enough. I’m worried about you.”

It was bizarre to hear Adora saying the words Catra had thought so often in reverse. It was Catra who always needed Adora. Catra who wouldn’t be able to survive without her. Adora’s vulnerability made Catra almost as anxious as her own. And yet. Catra also felt secure and strong and _present_ in a way that she didn’t ever want to lose again.

Catra twisted so she could wrap her arms around Adora, pressing them together. She kissed behind Adora’s ear and Adora shivered. “I don’t think you’ve kissed me there,” Adora whispered.

“Shame,” Catra said.

“Your ear tickles,” Adora said, bending away a little from where the tip of Catra’s ear grazed her neck.

“Just push it down,” Catra said.

Adora took the hint, folding Catra’s ear down with the pads of her fingers and stroking it so softly Catra could barely feel it.

“I still don’t believe you,” Catra admitted.

Adora let her hand fall down to brush the marks on Catra’s neck. “Not yet.”

Catra squeezed her back. “I want to do something right,” she whispered, biting back the _for once_.

“You will,” Adora said, a promise.

“Okay,” Catra said. “Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RIP Blue Tongue :(
> 
> Once again, I'm asking for you to forgive the late update. Hopefully this monster of an 11k chapter is enjoyable after the long wait. This took a lot longer than I expected to put together but also I got distracted by my Reign of Fire [dragon apocalypse AU](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28019619/chapters/68638164). (What is it with me and big fantasy lizards??)
> 
> There's one last chapter to round out this arc--it'll set up some things for the final part of this story. This fic is now over 100k! Thank you to everyone who has read/ kudosed/ commented. I love reading all the comments even if it takes me forever to respond sometimes. It's been a bright spot in the pandemic to share this story with all of you. <3


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